Fears and Dreams
by morgana07
Summary: Part of my 'Not My Sammy' series. While Dean is away and Sam is left on his own at Bobby's, both boys soon must face not only their worst fears but also their dreams.  Hurt!Sam /Hurt!Protective Dean. Full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Fears and Dreams**

**Summary:** _A part of my 'Not My Sammy' series. When Dean goes to retrieve his stuff from Lisa's house, Sam's left on his own at Bobby's. Soon both boys are confronted by not only their worst fears but also their dreams as Dean fights to find his brother before it's too late._

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own the boys or anything related to the world that Supernatural is. Any original characters belong to me._

**Warnings: **_Some violence, nothing graphic Will have mention of abuse in later chapters. _

**Ratings: **_T for language and violence._

**Pairings: **_No slash._

**Tags: **_Nothing definite but spoilers for early Season 6 and mentions of past episodes._

**A/N:**

**SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN**

**Chapter 1**

"Twelve deaths in six weeks, all in a three hundred mile radius," Bobby Singer grunted as he drove his ancient car back toward his salvage yard. "Yep, no doubt that there's something wrong with that picture."

The old grizzled hunter had been in town both checking out something with the local Sheriff and getting more supplies…again.

Bobby was certain that he hadn't been packing in this many provisions in years. He was sure the locals at the grocery store were also talking about it since he normally only bought supplies once a month but since he's had…guests, those trips have increased.

"Doesn't help that those two boys can eat a guy outta house and home," he muttered, eyeing the files on the seat next to him.

He'd been planning on looking into the deaths himself but after doing some minor digging and deciding it was probably just a low level fear spirit or something in those lines, he'd decided to pass this one on to the boys once Dean got back…if that dang idjit ever left that is.

Bobby had been concerned ever since the Winchester brothers decided to camp at his place after rescuing Sam from the shape shifter that had been holding him since shortly after his still confusing return from the Cage.

The older hunter had been patching people up for a while and he could tell that Sam was getting along physically pretty well these days though he was still an emotional wreck at times. It was actually Sam's older brother that worried Bobby the most.

Dean still hovered over the boy like no one's business and barely let him out of his sight though the older man understood that Sam still felt uneasy if his older brother wasn't close for long periods. Which in his opinion, should make the next few days interesting since Dean was supposed to be going to Indiana to pick up the rest of his stuff which left Bobby the job of both distracting Sam and keeping the kid outta trouble.

Which is why Bobby had decided to approach Sam with this new case. Getting him back in the research chair would keep him from getting too antsy about being on his own for the first time since Dean found him again and hopefully it would give both hunters a nice simple job to tackle.

"If I can get Dean outta my house in the first place," he growled, swearing he was about ready to knock the boy in the head and have that Angel who's been hanging around more zap his ass to Indiana. "Damn fool idjits are going to give me a stroke or…"

Slamming on the brakes just as he hit the straight away to the house, Bobby leaned forward to stare out the windshield in open shock before it turned to abject horror and finally to downright anger. "I'm gonna kill both of those damn idjits," he growled, driving up to his house more slowly to take in the changes that had occurred in the mere three hours that he'd been gone.

As Bobby slowly got out of the car, the first thing that caught his attention was the full Santa sleigh with eight…no make that nine reindeer on the very top of the roof and that last little critter had a blinking red bulb where his nose should've been. Behind it was a sign that was blinking 'Merry Christmas'.

He narrowed his gaze to take in the large 8 foot blow up snow ball with a penguin chasing a…he took a closer look to see that the penguin was indeed chasing a Wendigo and shuddered at how he accomplished that feat.

Growling the closer he got to the front door, Bobby nearly shot the large sound activated Saint Bernard on the porch by the door that began barking a Christmas song but when the mirrored Christmas ornament dropped from the ceiling and hit him in the head that did it and his temper hit the roof.

"Dean!" the older man had no doubt which Winchester had been responsible for this mess though even Bobby had to be impressed with how the boy had done so much so quickly. Not that he was stupid enough to think that he hadn't had help because there was very little that Dean Winchester did that he couldn't get his brother to help him with. "Boy, I am so gonna take a layer or three off your hide when I find you for…" he was shouting when he entered the house to find that the interior of his house was about as decorated as the exterior, only the inside was a lot more garish. "Dean, where the hell are…"

"Bobby!" Sam quickly stepped from the library at the irate voice of the man who was like a surrogate father to them, being careful to pull the pocket doors closed behind him and keep a hand on them. "Umm, what're you doin' back so soon?"

Giving the younger man a hard look, Bobby was sure by the overly bright expression and too innocent look on his flushed face that while Dean was more than likely the main instigator that Sam had more than likely lent an idea or two if not an actual hand.

"Where's your brother, boy?" he demanded, seeing a blinking elf sitting on his kitchen drainboard while a blowup vampire was dressed like Santa. "All that yellin' at Castiel make him brain dead or what to think I wouldn't notice that mess outside?" he paused as something seemed to drop inside the library and Sam cringed. "Sam?" drawing out the name like he'd do when the boys had been younger, Bobby stared hard. "I thought I said no decorations?"

Taking a deep breath, Sam had known this plan was going to backfire in their faces but had gone along with brother's holiday plan for Bobby's house anyway. Now, it was just a matter to keep them both from getting skinned…or killed. "Bobby, I'm sorry. Y'know my memory's still a little shaky at times and I must have misunderstood you and you know how Dean used to love this time or year and…"

Leaning against the wall next to the door, Bobby watched the boy talk rapidly and wasn't sure what he admired more. Sam's ability to still think on his feet or his devotion and loyalty to his big brother. Both if he had to pick but it wasn't like he planned on admitting that.

"Sam, you may still have little issues but that memory of yours sure as hell ain't one of them," he countered arching a brow. "Now, what's that idjit brother of yours up to in my library?"

"What? Oh, no, Dean's not…I mean…" Sam tried to think of something to stall until he heard the sound of a drill, a crash and his brother's voice and he groaned. "That didn't sound good."

Carefully moving Sam aside, Bobby jerked the doors open and felt his migraine explode again. "Dean, what in the Sam hill are you doing to that wreath and for that matter, why is it over my fireplace to begin with?" he demanded, snatching hold of the older Winchester's belt before he could topple off the ladder he was standing on. "Which one of you chuckleheads climbed on the roof and put that sleigh up there?"

"Bobby, we weren't expectin' you back this…" Dean muttered a curse under his brother, stepping down and catching Sam's hazel eyes. "I guess you saw the yard?"

Taking a step closer, Bobby looked ready to hit the older boy with the fireplace poker that was too close at hand. "You could say that, genuis," he growled, sliding a gaze between the brothers. "You let Sam up on my roof, boy?"

"Please, he hardly lets me out the front door much less on a ladder to climb the roof," Sam scoffed, wincing at the slap he felt on the back of the head. "Sorry, Dean,"

Vowing to remind Sam that little brothers are often better seen and not heard, Dean handed him the drill and then reached for his usual overshirt. Anything to buy time to think of an answer. "Bobby, I know you said no decorations and normally you know that I'd never go against your wishes…"

"Yeah, and pink pigs fly," Bobby rolled his eyes, taking in the gawdy purple three foot tree on a corner table before pinning a dagger like stare on Dean.

"*Cough*, Right, well, anyway, it's just that it might be better to put a positive spin on the place for the town's sake. Y'know, let people see that you're more than the town drunk…especially after you chucked that thing in your neighbors wood chipper and all," Dean covered the smirk with a hand and shot his brother a warning look.

"Uh-huh," Bobby laid the files down on the desk and picked up a small angel figure in a trench coat and hoped for the best. "Dean? This isn't…Castiel, is it?"

Sam snickered at Dean's blank look. "Uh, no. It's just…just, no. It's not." he finally sighed, seeing that the older hunter wasn't giving in Dean fell back on his ace in the hole and prayed his little brother went along with it.

"Bobby, alright. I admit that I went against your orders and decorated the house but…" taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Dean glanced meaningfully toward his brother and dropped his voice. "The last Christmas Sam and I spent together was the one before I went to Hell. He's had such a bad time of it the past couple years, especially the last, that I just wanted to give him a good holiday. Y'know how he loved this time of year when he was a kid. The lights, the decorations, and all the cheesy stuff that I thought I'd give him some of that again," he made a careful show of using an expression that he only brought out when he seriously needed to apply the charm. "Bobby, you should've seen his face when the first lawn decoration lit. Do you want to deny Sammy of the most simple enjoyment? After what he's gone through, how can we not give him this little thing?"

Remembering why Dean always seemed to get what he wanted out of life no matter who he had to talk to, Bobby silently was impressed with the deep soulful green eyes that stared at him. John had always said that Sam was the master of the puppy dog look but the boy had learned from the master because Dean could turn the damn things on and off at will. By throwing Sam's recent traumas at him Bobby struggled to keep the stern look up but one look over at Sam and, yep, there it was, another set of puppy eyes complete with open and full emotional Sammy face and he felt the resolve buckling.

"Dean, it's fine. This is Bobby's place and we should've really taken into account what he wanted," Sam had dropped his eyes and fingered the angel figure lightly as if deep in thought. "They'll be plenty of times for us to celebrate Christmas…unless of course something should happen to one of us or…"

"Oh, put a sock in it the two of ya," Bobby growled, rolling his eyes and shooting both Winchesters a look that they both recognized from their youth. "You know, I don't see how either Angels or demons ever got a word in around the two of you. All you would've had to do was turn on the damn guilt and puppy dog eyes and that should have been better than rock salt or Devil's traps," sitting down rather forcefully in his chair he eyed them both. "Fine all this crap stays but the shiny vamp blowup in the hall gets gone and you swear to salt and burn the rest the second of January."

"Deal," Dean grinned, knowing when to cut his losses and besides, he'd basically had up all that Sam had wanted before Bobby got home. He could sneak in the little things at various times. "What's in the files?"

Slapping his hand away before he could touch one, Bobby tossed the folders in the desk. "You can look when you get back," he declared, lifting a brow. "Speaking of which, shouldn't you have been gone to Indiana already? How long are you going to put this off, Dean?"

A brief shadow flit over Sam's face but not before his brother saw it and held out the drill case. "Sammy, bury this before Bobby tries to take down Santa or something?" he suggested, waiting until his brother was out of the room to sit down on the edge of the desk. "I'm not putting it off, Bobby. I'm just thinking it might be best to wait for a little while longer before leaving him…"

"Dean, you ain't leavin' Sam on his own. I'll be here and I'm sure Rufus will be stopping by probably with some form of authority hot on his ass," Bobby reminded, knowing it wasn't all Sam that was making Dean hesitate. "You don't have to tell the girl anything you don't want but you owe her the truth, especially if you really aren't planning on going back. Your brother can help me reorganize the books, make some new hex bags, work on the truck and…"

"Sam had better not step foot outta this house and if he does you had damn well better be two steps behind him," Dean growled, waving the smirk away. "Don't start, old man," he warned. "I know you think I'm coddling him, Bobby and I might be but there's this feeling in my gut that just says to keep him close. Especially until I know what the Campbell clan is up to."

That made more sense than Bobby liked and so kept quiet as he followed Dean out, seeing the small bag by the door that had his denim jacket over it. "You won't be gone more than a couple days, boy. I'll keep him busy and outta mischief…well, at least as outta mischief as you Winchesters can stay out of."

"Funny, you're hilarious," Dean snorted, stepping outside to toss his bag into the Impala when he saw Sam sitting on the front steps petting the pudgy stray puppy that was mysteriously dropped off by the gate…or so Bobby said when he showed up with the little guy. "Sammy."

Looking up from scratching the pup's head, Dean caught the brief hesitance in his brother's eyes before sitting down next to him. "I'll be back by week's end," he promised, seeing the nod. "Tell me what's buggin' you? You know I'm comin' back, right?"

"Yeah, it's just…" Sam sat the puppy down to turn his attention the snowball. "Dean, I know you're going to take this as me just being paranoid after what's happened with Lucifer and then that 'shifter, but…I just don't think you should go. Call it a…gut feeling."

Laying a hand on a tense shoulder, Dean was slightly surprised to feel it shaking it a way that he hadn't since Sam had first woken up. "I'm the paranoid one, Sammy," he chuckled, squeezing the opposite shoulder lightly before reaching over to turn a pale face toward him. "I don't want to leave until I've figured out all the loose ends but we need some of the stuff that I left at Lisa's so you stay, let Bobby think he's babysitting you and when I get back we'll find a tree farm and get the biggest tree that will fit in this place."

Forgetting for a moment his uneasiness, Sam turned to watch his brother. He sensed his tension but could also see that Dean was putting up a brave front. "A real tree?" he wondered how Bobby would take that one but something leftover from his once innocent childhood tingled. "A real live tree, Dean?"

"Sammy, didn't I promise that one year we'd have a real tree for Christmas?" Dean grinned, deciding to put the trouble of talking Bobby into it later. "Just make sure this mutt doesn't tear it down."

"Boo's not a mutt, Dean," Sam argued but smiled, standing as his brother did and shoved the rest of his fears down, figuring it was just the idea of not having Dean with him like he'd gotten used to that was making him nervous. "He'll be a great watch dog for Bobby once he…gets over a few little quirks."

"Damn mutt ran from a cricket the other day, Sammy," Dean reminded him lightly, seeing the puppy watching with eyes that reminded him of his brother at times. "Great, you two are just a perfect match. I'll call tonight and every couple hours," he assured him.

Nodding, Sam walked to the Impala while the puppy decided to investigate the singing dog statue on the porch. "I'll be fine, Dean, just take care of yourself and if anything happens, call us," he urged, holding something out. "Don't forget this."

Hand on the driver's door, Dean saw his leather jacket being held out and considered it for a brief moment. "Nah, you hang onto it for me," he shrugged, motioning around them. "It gets colder here than it is where I'm going so you wear it when you take that so-called fierce mutt out for a walk."

Sam looked from the jacket in his hands to his older brother. Dean had been allowing him to use the jacket since Thanksgiving but that was because they hadn't gotten around to shopping for winter clothes yet. Now even with a new heavy coat, his brother was still allowing him to use the worn leather jacket that had always been in their lives, first as their father's and then as Dean's. He suspected he knew why but didn't want to call his brother on it. "You sure? I mean, Indiana can be cold and…"

"Sam, put the jacket on and keep it on when you're outside," Dean rolled his eyes, trying to keep the tone gruff but figured by now Sam knew why he wasn't using the jacket himself. "Bobby's doctor pal said your immunity is still low and that you can come down with anything so just wear my jacket and shut up about it."

Smiling a little and finally slipping the jacket on before Dean decided to do it for him, Sam still felt the same feeling of security the jacket had been offering and figured that was why his brother was letting him use it. "Thanks."

"Just listen to Bobby, avoid neighbors bearing gifts, don't stay up all night reading or messing in the library and call me if you even get a feeling that something's off," Dean ordered firmly, seeing the eyeroll that his little brother was famous for and smirking. "Get back in the house and I'll call," he added, pausing before he stuck his head out the window. "Sammy?"

"Yeah?" he knew what was coming and just waited for it.

Coughing slightly to cover his own unease about leaving his brother alone for an extended time, Dean shot him his usual gruff big brother smirk. "Stay outta trouble, bitch."

"Try not to barbecue anymore gnomes…jerk," Sam replied, locking and holding his brother's eyes and understanding the real meaning behind the words. "I'll miss you too, Dean."

Bobby waited on the porch until the Impala was out of sight before finally speaking. "He'll be fine, Sam. It's a simple pick up job. Even your brother should manage that without hassle."

"Yeah, that's not what worries me, Bobby," Sam sighed, pulling the jacket tighter around himself even though the chilly South Dakota air wasn't bothering him. "Have you ever had that feeling in the pit of your stomach that just screamed that something bad was coming?"

"Hell, boy. I've had that feeling from the first night I met your Daddy," Bobby snorted, jerking his head to the door. "Get back inside before Dean has reason to hover again and take that dog with you," he growled, seeing the boy's grin as he whistled for the puppy. "Sam? How'd Dean get a Wendigo in that snow thing?"

A broken laugh and something that sounded like 'don't ask' was heard and the grizzled hunter shook his head. Stepping back inside, he ignored the sudden cold burst of air that blew past and on instinct checked the Devil's Trap inside the door but missed the brief flitting image of a shadow deep within the junkyard when he followed the sound of the pup's barking and Sam's sudden laugh.

Waiting a long while after the black classic car left the ground, the shadowy figure stepped from between two rows of cars to gaze at the house with seeming hostility. "You should've listened to those feelings, boys. The old saying, 'stronger together than apart' really does apply in your case," he pulled a phone out. "They're apart, Samuel. Let 'er loose and we'll see just how strong the Winchesters are these days."

_A/N: I have a basic idea where this is going and the next chapters will pick up. This one had to set up the rest. Sorry if it rambled._


	2. Chapter 2

**Fears and Dreams**

**Chapter 2**

**Cicero, Indiana, 24 hours later**:

"Bobby, what the hell did ya let him have?" shoving a box into the backseat of the Impala, Dean Winchester struggled not to drop his phone while listening to the disgruntled older man and keeping a wary eye on the family of garden gnomes that Lisa must have just put in. "There's no way that Sam should be this hyper unless he had some…" he groaned at the answer. "Yeah, that would've done it. Bobby, do you remember the year that Sam was six and Dad dropped us on you for six weeks? Do you remember the first rule on Dad's list?"

Shutting the door and going back inside the garage to double check that he hadn't overlooked anything he winced at the noises in the background back at Bobby's. "Sam can't have sugar of any kind in large quantities and he sure as hell can't have sugar after 9:00PM or this is what happens. How'd he get his hands on that many cookies anyway?" Dean groaned and scratched his rule of not accepting anything from Bobby's neighbors off his list. "Bring him down?" he choked on a laugh when something made the nape of his neck tingle. "Bobby, you'll be lucky if he's down by the time I get back but if you seriously want to tone him down, short of locking him in the panic room, then hide the rest of that sugar stash and tell him that I said he'd better be talking at a normal speed when I call in the morning."

Hanging up, he pinched the bridge of his nose but couldn't repress the grin. "This reminds me of when he was that chubby twelve year old," he sighed, hearing the side door of the garage move and he slid his hand around to the pistol at the small of his back.

"Dean."

Relaxing only slightly, Dean turned as Lisa entered. "Hey. Sorry, I thought I'd be done and gone by the time you got back," he shrugged, making sure the denim jacket covered his weapon. "The garage is clear so that should take care of…"

"You have a couple boxes in the house that I packed," the former yoga instructor replied, taking a good look at the man who she had spent the past year living with and noticing a few tiny things that had been missing in him. "You look…good."

Dean would've had to have been dumb and deaf to have missed the infliction in the tone on those words. He had lived here for over a year in the perfect house, with the perfect girl and the perfect kid. His life should've been that normal apple pie life and he'd been nothing but a broken shell. More dead than alive while he was here. Now, that he'd been away he looked…good. Yep, that sure spoke of how messed up she must think he is. "Thanks, you too," he could have winced from the awkward strain but followed her into the house.

"You want a beer or anything?" Lisa also felt the strain and decided to try to make the visit feel normal if nothing else. "I have some roast left over from last night if you'd like to…"

"No, I told Sam I'd be back at Bobby's early tomorrow so I can't drink," Dean caught the pinched look at his brother's name, sighing. "Lisa, I…I just want to say thanks for dealing with me when I showed up on your doorstep that night. I know I haven't been easy to live with and you and Ben certainly deserve more…"

Lisa turned from the refrigerator where she sat a can of soda on the counter near him. "I told you, this past year was the best in our lives, Dean. It just got…bad after…" she paused a second. "After your brother came back."

"Yeah, about that," Dean tapped the can and considered what to tell her if anything. "That wasn't my brother, Lisa. That wasn't Sammy."

"What?" she stared, not understanding. "I know about that thing you put under the rug by the front door, Dean, so if it wasn't Sam then what was it or how…?"

Pushing the soda aside, Dean shook his head while heading for the steps. "Shapeshifter and Sam's still getting over it so I need to get back I just wanted to get the rest of my stuff out of your way."

"So you're not coming back," Lisa had known that even before the last time they talked but she'd hoped that once he'd gotten past his obsession again that things would settle down.

"I think you made your opinion of that clear, Lise," Dean had a guess where this was going and just wanted out. He didn't want the fight and he did not want the ultimatum that he knew would come. "I wasn't happy. I came here because my brother asked me to but the whole nine-to-five, pick-up driving, working for a living, having barbecues life just isn't what I was made for and it's not what I want."

"Damn you, Dean. We were happy." Lisa followed him out of the kitchen but stopped short of grabbing his arm. "You were happy until you thought Sam was back and then you went right back into the insanity. You tried to kill the neighbors Yorkie, you went all paranoid and you shoved Ben," she replied, hoping he'd see the wrongness in what he was choosing. "Have you ever thought that this obsessive need to protect your brother is…"

Whirling he bit back the instinctive reply that came to mind and fought to take a deep breath. "Don't bring Sammy into this, Lisa," he warned in a low voice, eyes cold. "Sam and I were all each other had growing up and when you've lived our lives, you tend to stick to one another," he stopped before taking something from his inside jacket pocket. "I told Ben I'd get him this for Christmas so you can give it to him if you want and just be glad that I'm getting out now because no matter how hard either of us tried, I'm not a father."

"You've been a father since you were four years old, from what you've said," Lisa called after him, holding onto the clumsily newspaper wrapped item in the form of a video game. "You raised your brother more like a son than your Father did, that's what you told me one night. You need a real life, Dean. One where your every waking moment isn't taking care of Sam."

"Never happen, babe," Dean looked back once more before heading for the master bedroom. "The whole apple pie life, settle down with 2.5 kids just ain't in my blood and I doubt if it ever will be," he told her. "Hunting the evil things that are out there, protecting people, carrying on the 'family tradition', and taking care of my pain in the ass little brother is what I'm good at. God help us all."

Watching the eldest Winchester disappear up the steps, Lisa closed her eyes sadly. "No, God help you Dean," she whispered, turning away to start dinner for Ben and missing the shadow in the corner that stared up the steps with glowing eyes.

Dean understood Lisa's feelings and probably at one time would have believed in them himself but the days of doubting himself and his brother were gone. He'd walked that path and all it did was create a gap between him and Sam that still hasn't fully healed.

Reminding himself to call Bobby to see if he knew anyone who could reinstall that stupid I-Pod thing of Sam's in the Impala, Dean shuddered. 'That should be considered my Christmas miracle,' he told himself, feeling the tingling at the base of his skull that warned him of danger but waving it off due to all of the mixed emotions he'd been going through recently, he twisted the handle to the room he once shared with Lisa and stepped into…

" 'Take your brother outside as fast as you can! Don't look back! Now Dean, go!'" John Winchester ordered a much younger Dean as he put the six month old Sam into his brothers arm.

Staring at the scene that he'd just walked into, Dean spun to locate the door but found nothing but burning walls closing in on him.

"No," he whispered, watching his father try in vain to save his mother from the burning nursery. "This ain't real. Not sure what the hell it is, another Djinn trick or what but…" hissing as his hand burned when he touched a wall that should not have been solid to him.

Contrary to what most people would have logically assumed, it wasn't Sam who had a fear of fire even though he had barely lived through two of the damned things and despite Dean's own firm denials, he was the one who suffered the near terrifying fear of the heat, the flames and above all else, the memories those things triggered.

"Come out, you bastard!" he shouted, knowing that if he could only find the trigger object to stop this memory that he'd be fine, that he'd find the son of a bitch who had somehow either drugged him or done something to cause this and feed him or her their lungs. "You want me? Well, here I am! Knock off the cheap parlor tricks and face me!"

Coughing as a sudden barrage of burning smoke choked his lungs, Dean fought to stay on his feet even as the burning walls of his old house seemed to close in on him. "This ain't real and I'm not…I'm not afraid of this!"

"Aren't you?" the voice from behind him caused Dean more terror than the thought of possibly burning up in a reality that he knew had to be false. "You can't lie in here, Dean. You can't lie to yourself or…to me."

Refusing to turn, Dean swore harshly as she reached for the pistol under his jacket only to find it missing when a hand, whose touch he still could remember, made him turn to look and he felt what breath he had leave him. "_Mom_?"

_**A/N: **__Is it real? Is it a dream or something else? Look for Sam in Chapter Three and see just what he's been up too (well, besides a sugar rush) while Dean's away and what's in store for him. Don't worry, I won't forget Dean._


	3. Chapter 3

Fears and Dreams

**Chapter Three**

**Souix Falls, South Dakota**

"Damn you, boy!" Bobby Singer growled, torn between pounding his head into the first available hard object or just shooting his current object of stress. "I'm lockin' either you or those damn cookies in the panic room! Sam!"

Cursing the moment his overly friendly female neighbors, hell some of them weren't even neighbors, learned that he had a houseguest…a young clearly attractive houseguest, the bundles of bakes goods had descended on them like the wrath of Zeus.

Bobby, still getting used to having someone in the house, had forgotten the one rule that John Winchester had been firm about when it came to feeding his boys: Sam was not, under penalty of death, allowed to have anything with sugar in large amounts or at night.

"Damn fool just didn't tell me why the boy wasn't allowed sweets," he grumbled, hearing the sound of hurried steps coming back downstairs and he started grabbing containers and foiled covered plates. "You step foot in my kitchen and I'm callin' your brother back."

Huffing out a breath, Sam was wise enough to stay just in the kitchen door but close enough so that he could slip a hand into the bowl on the counter nearest him. "Bobby, I'm twenty-seven years old, that threat really stopped being effective a while ago," he tried to reason and didn't let on that he really didn't want his brother told about this since Dean was just as stubborn on this little rule as their father had been. "You were the one who said I needed to eat more than salads and 'all that health crap'," he reminded, nearly yelping when a wooden spoon cracked his knuckles. "Hey!"

"I meant protein, boy," the older man snapped, waving the spoon he'd grabbed. "Steak, burgers, hell red meat. I sure as hell didn't mean to go all candy factory by devouring half a bakery in a day. How'd the hell John cope with you all hyped up?"

Shifting from one leg to another, Sam considered that briefly before shrugging. "Dad didn't let me have sugar and Dean knew better so…"

"So you went for it since you knew I'd probably forgotten all about that little rule, huh?" Bobby glared as he gathered up most of the sweets, debating on what to do with them until he could get the boy calmed down again.

He had known right this morning that something was off with the youngest Winchester. Sam had been moping and sullen ever since Dean had left. So when he came down to find breakfast already going, a burned coffee maker in the sink and soap suds exploding from his old washer he'd known that something was wrong for Sam to have made that big of a mess to his house in such a small amount of time.

It wasn't until he discovered every single item of sweet or sugar in the kitchen had either been tasted or devoured that he'd picked up on the cause of why his normally sullen and quiet guest was now practically bouncing from the ceiling.

"Bobby, I promise to back off the sweets if you…just don't do anything drastic with that stuff," Sam replied, trying his best innocent puppy dog look but as hyped as he was right now Bobby just smirked.

"Boy, you'll be lucky to come off this high by New Years much less by the time Dean gets back," he countered, deciding the panic room and a deadbolt on the basement door would work for the time being, pointing a stern finger at a kitchen chair. "You, sit your ass down and drink something decaffeinated and don't touch anything!"

"It's not my fault that blender blew up!" Sam yelled at his back but slumped into the chair even as the puppy trotted into the kitchen with hopeful eyes. "I guess he doesn't know about the back up stash I hid in my room," he whispered to the pup, yelping again at the slap to the back of his head. "Bobby!"

"He does now," the older man shot back, rolling his eyes and swearing that he was not resorting to calling Rufus in as backup…yet. He had once handled both Winchester boys when one had been an infant and the other a toddler so Bobby vowed that he could handle Sam now. Or at least until another appliance bit the dust. "Dean said that you'd better be talkin' at a normal speed the next time he calls."

Rubbing the back of his head, Sam looked up at that. "He say when he's coming back?" he asked casually and hoped he kept some of the underlying fear out of his tone.

Even though both Bobby and Dean had worked hard to assure the younger man that this trip back to Indiana was just a brief one-stop thing, it still worried Sam that his brother could change his mind and decide that dealing with him was a huge hassle and stay away. Especially if Sam listened to his dreams and now he regretted not telling Dean about those.

"Yeah, he'll be back sometime tomorrow so quit worrying," the older hunter ordered, laying a casual hand on a tense shoulder. "Besides, knowing Dean he'll probably call tonight since he didn't get to talk to ya earlier so you'd better work your ass off to get some of that sugar outta you or else neither one of us will hear the end of it from him."

"You're the one who was supposed to be watching me, Bobby," Sam reminded him cheerfully, scratching the puppy's head before standing. "I suppose Boo and I could go out and try to put that mess you call a shop in order or something."

Relieved that he'd get the boy outta what hair he had left for a couple hours, Bobby nearly sighed until he suddenly lunged to snag Sam's belt, hauling him back before he'd taken two steps toward the door. "Get your butt back here, boy!" he snapped, growling. "I let you outta this damn house to go outside to mess around with tools, scrap, and other things that could cause you some harm, you'd probably come down with Tetanus or something and Dean would tear me a new one."

"Bobby, make up your mind. Either you want me to expand some of this energy or you want to lock me in a bubble. Choose one," Sam was past exasperated though he appreciated the older man's concern.

Bobby had seen the mess Sam had been in after being found and he had been the one to harp on Dean to loosen up but despite the fact that Sam still felt uneasy when not around his brother, he accepted that he had to try since he refused to be a weak burden on either Dean or Bobby.

Of course, the trick was to make Bobby see it that way and he doubted if the puppy dog eyes would work this time.

"I can do both. You just watch me," Bobby was saying, looking around for something inside for the youngest Winchester to work on. "I have some boxes of books in the attic that need hauled down and put in the library. You can get to work on that."

Sam considered it and figured that his brother probably wouldn't approve of that task since Sam still had the occasional problem with his muscles given that for almost a year he'd been chained to a bed in a filthy warehouse with tubes and wires keeping him alive.

As soon as he was able to stay awake for longer than an hour, both men had helped him start to strengthen his arms and legs and now he only felt the weakness when he was really tired or…uneasy.

"You feel a twinge or get weak then you drop the box and go lay down," Bobby must have been thinking the same thing even as the phone rang.

Sam waited a second in case it was Dean because for some reason he really wanted to hear his brother's voice but just shrugged it off as this was the first time the brothers had been apart since Sam's return.

"It's Rufus which just screams trouble," Bobby groaned, snagging the cordless from the wall to snap out a greeting even while Sam made his way upstairs. "Turner, what the hell are you up to, where are you and if those are sirens behind you then you had damn well better not be headin' my way!"

"Have fun, Bobby," Sam urged, clapping his friend on the back before climbing the steps to the second floor and heading for the attic door.

Touching the knob, he recalled his childhood days when his Dad would drop him and Dean off with Bobby. They'd often play in the attic on rainy days when playing outside had been forbidden. As an adult, after the events in Carthage when Jo and Ellen died and Dean had been self-destructing and angry, Sam had hidden in the attic by taking solace in the books kept up there.

Now though he almost feared opening the door. "Alright, Sam, time to knock that off," he chided himself, pulling on the oversize hoodie that he'd grabbed from his room. "Just because Dean's not here, doesn't mean you can't face some dust bunnies…or whatever else Bobby might have hiding up here. You've faced down Wendigos and zombies so suck it up and show yourself that you're not a wimp or a lousy hunter… even if you did get taken down by a stupid…"

"Suck it up, Winchester," Sam muttered, jerking open the door and stepping into pitch blackness.

**Downstairs:**

Reaching for the coffee pot before he remembered that Sam blew it up earlier, Bobby leaned against the counter while he listened to Rufus Turner. "Yeah, I went over those files. I'm gonna let the boys have a go at the thing once Dean gets back from Indiana or unless I've killed his little brother in the…" he stopped, frown growing more pronounced as the man on the other end spoke. "What the hell d'ya mean it ain't no fear demon?" he demanded. "What the hell is it if it ain't a fear demon or…?"

Face drawing into a tight expression…one that normally only one of Dean's plans could cause, Bobby listened until what was being said sunk in and his eyes shot to the ceiling. "Shit! Sam!" he shouted up the stairs even while he was taking them as fast as he could. "Sam, answer me!" he ran down the hall until he got to the attic door, finding it shut tight. "Goddamn it, Sam!"

Setting the phone aside despite the shouting from the other end, Bobby pulled the large Colt handgun he carried and shot the knob off the door. Jerking it open, he ran up the attic steps only to find…nothing.

Looking around the attic, the only trace of Sam Winchester he found was the battered leather jacket that Bobby knew the boy would guard with his life. "This isn't good," he muttered, hurrying back down to snatch up the phone. "Rufus, get your ass up to my place pronto! Why? Because Sam just vanished right out from under my nose and his brother is going to kill…" groaning, he heard the beep that announced another call and prayed it wasn't the aforementioned older Winchester. "Hold on. Yeah, Singer Salvage, what can I…what?" he scrubbed a hand down his face when he heard the female voice. "Yeah, yeah, I remember you but the last I heard Dean should be at your…"

Lisa spoke quickly but all Bobby heard was the rest of his world falling into a sinkhole. "No, no, don't call the cops, don't do anything. I'll…handle it," he was quick to reassure, switching back to the other line. "Rufus! Lose whatever Fed, cop, or whatever is chasing you and get up here_ NOW_! No, Sam and Dean have both vanished and I don't have a clue as to how or who but we're gonna find out and feed 'em their hearts for messin' with those idjits!"

Throwing the phone down, Bobby stared at the leather jacket in his hands and closed his eyes. "Hang on, boys. I'll get'cha back one way or another so just keep your heads until I do and God take the son of bitch who touches my boys."

**Meanwhile:**

Sam's hand reached out to find a light switch or anything to brighten up the darkness. He couldn't remember Bobby's attic ever being this dark. "Ouch!" he hissed when his thigh connected with something but finally fumbled against…a lamp?

"What?" flipping the switch, Sam's hazel eyes blinked in the sudden brightness and then he felt his breath catch as two things registered. The first, he no longer had Dean's jacket and the second…he knew this place and it sure as hell wasn't the attic at Bobby's. "No."

A door opening behind him caused tension to ripple through the young hunter but nothing like what the soft melodic voice that spoke did to him.

"Hello, Sam."

"Oh, God," he whispered, turning slowly to stare into the eyes of the petite blond that was standing a few feet away. "Jess."

**TBC**

_Come back to see what happens to the boys. Who's doing this? What could be causing them to face their greatest fears and will Bobby find out in time to save them?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Fears & Dreams**

**Chapter Four**

"Mom," Dean's whisper was brittle as he stared at the vision in front of him.

Mary Winchester stood in front of her eldest son looking exactly as she had the night she died in this very fire. Only unlike the time that he and Sam encountered their mother's spirit in their old house, her white nightgown now showed the blood of the wound caused by the attack that night. Her gentle gaze scanned her son for a long moment before her hand moved too quickly to have been real and he felt the stinging pain of the open hand slap.

"You are a complete disappointment to both me and your Father, Dean," she spoke coolly, eyes going cold. "To think that I actually wanted to settle down to a normal life and raise a child like you. Completely unable to accomplish the easiest thing, you failed to protect your brother and turned him into an inhuman monster that I wish had died at birth."

Dean had been startled by the vision of his mother and his shock had allowed the thing to gain the upper hand…at least until that phrase come out of its mouth.

"Uh-huh. That was your mistake, fugly," he sneered at it, lungs working better that he knew he was not facing his mother even though the flames were still too close for his liking and it was taking every ounce of control to keep his cool. "My Dad might be disappointed in his kids and he might be disappointed in me plenty but my Mom…there's no way in hell she'd ever say that Sam should have died before he was born. She died for him and I've had better douchebags than you screw with her memory. Now hang on while I find something to kill you with, you bastard!"

'Mary' merely smiled, shifting out of focus to appear behind the young hunter, shaking her head sadly. "Is that anyway to talk to your Mother, Dean?" she chided mockingly, lifting a hand and flames shot higher around Dean. "Did poor old John know how scared of fire you really were?"

Instinctively back away from the flames that were shooting closer to him, Dean glared. "You are not my Mother and this sure as hell ain't real!" he yelled.

The figure bearing Mary Winchester's face lifted a finger and Dean found himself slammed down the hall and pinned to the wall, his head ringing as he fought to get free as it approached.

"You're right, of course," 'she' agreed in a realistic tone as she examined the now pinned hunter. "I'm not your Mother but this reality is very much real and even though it might be hard, you could still die in it…so could Sam if you're not quick."

All struggles ceased as Dean's eyes snapped to meet the amused eyes that still looked like his mother's. "What…what the hell are you talkin' about?" he demanded tightly. "Sammy's safe and sound at Bobby's and…"

"Like you were safe and sound at Gumby girl's house?" she sneered, clucking her tongue at him. "Dean, Dean, Dean, did you really think that all the danger was over? That you could just scoop your baby brother out of that hovel in Lawrence, shield him under your wing at the junk man's house and all the nasty things in the world that really do hate you boys would go away?"

"It was a theory," he gritted, narrowing furious eyes at his captor. "So what are you, bitch? A Djinn or a shapeshifter don't have the juice that you're using."

Laughing at some joke only she knew, the woman walked a little bit away to run a slim hand through a patch of flames but came out unscathed, glancing back over her shoulder. "You really have no idea what you've stepped into this time, do you hero?" she teased him, coming back with fire licking her fingertips and smiling as she watched Dean strain to pull back from the flames when she held them up to his face. "Have you ever stopped to consider your life if Sam had died, Dean? Mary would have lived and it would have stayed just your parents and you. No pesky baby brother to ruin it all with his demon blood issues or the problems with Daddy…"

"Shut up," Dean felt his fingers move from where he was held, fighting to keep his temper down. "Demons don't need to play mind games and I'm sure the Angels are too busy fighting their own war to be interested in me and Sam, so what are you?"

"I can be whatever you want, hotstuff," she smiled, laying a still sizzling hand on his shoulder and smiled when he struggled not to scream as it burned through the material of his jacket. "Your best dream, maybe show you a life with Cassie if you'd just had the guts to stand up to your old man…or your worst nightmare in which little Sammy doesn't fight Lucifer and turns on you. What do you want me to be, Dean?"

Gritting his teeth from the burning in his shoulder, Dean slowly lifted his head to look the thing wearing his mother's face right in the eye, spitting. "A burning pile of ash would be my first choice but I'll settle for writhing in agony." he hissed, moving suddenly to bring his hand up to shove the small silver knife he'd worked free from inside his belt into its chest and felt the pressure ease off as it fell back with a horrid scream.

"Now, where the hell am I and where the hell is my brother, you son of a bitch?" he demanded, stumbling a little from the shock to his shoulder. "Where is he?"

Thrashing from the piece of silver embedded in its flesh, the thing had reverted to its base female form…which if Dean wasn't angry and in pain, he'd admit was sort of hot, but he shoved that off in favor of twisting the knife deeper.

"You're…not in Kansas anymore, Toto," she hissed, screaming when the knife went in deeper. "You think you're in your mind but you're not. Your precious Sammy is in here facing his own fears and demons, no pun, and either on of you could die before you find him."

Kneeling down, Dean considered what was being said and what he knew of the supernatural. Djinns could form realities so it was possible one was behind this but even then, the reality created by one was inside the person's own head. This…this couldn't be the work of a Djinn, not if Sam was somewhere else in this crappy reality.

Dean had only faced two creatures with the ability to alter reality in such a way: Angels and the Trickster... and that didn't count since the Trickster was an Angel…or did it…he wasn't certain. What he was certain of is that he'd left Sammy alone. He'd left his still hurt little brother alone and they'd both fallen victim to someone with some major mojo and he had to find Sam because the kid's emotional walls still weren't strong enough to handle crap like this.

"How do I find Sam?" he asked, jerking the knife out. "What else is waiting for me?"

She looked up with a sneer, pain notwithstanding. "Hell's waiting for you, Dean because there's no way the bosses want you finding Sammy before he crashes and burns."

Fury flashing, he jerked the thing up closer. "I lost him once because of bastards like you and whoever's doing this and I'll be damned if anything will touch him again or that I'll lose him again," he snarled, blade flashing against the thing's throat.

Dean watched as the blood pooled from the throat wound, frowning when the now limp body seemed to slowly vanish. "Great, so was it real or just something they wanted me to see?" he rolled his eyes but then knew two things for sure. The burn on his shoulder was real enough and he had to find Sammy.

" 'Sure, leave him with me, Dean. Sam'll be fine, Dean. I'll keep the kid busy so that he can't get into any trouble, Dean,'" he muttered sourly, repeating Bobby's words sourly and vowing that once he got his little brother back…again…that he would be dead and buried before he let him outta his sight. "Hang on, Sammy. I'll find ya and then I am so kicking someone's ass for this."

Looking around the still fire-filled hall, Dean took a deep breath. He still remembered the night his mother burned. The heat of the flames as he struggled to carry his baby brother out of the house and the fear of losing both of his parents until his Dad had grabbed them both up.

Fire had left him with one of his two biggest phobias but if he had to face a wall of flame in order to find his brother then so damn well be it.

"Sammy!" he shouted, figuring it wouldn't be that simple when something crashed behind him and he realized that the roof of this reality was literally crashing in on his head. "Crap!" taking a quick look, he spotted a door where logically there shouldn't have been one and ignoring the searing heat of the flames that blocked him from it took a leap of faith literally and dove just as the wall fell in on him.

Dean swore violently and loudly as his already burned shoulder took the brunt of the fall when he rolled to a stop in front of a…large overly smiling evil looking…clown. "Ah, shit."

**Elsewhere:**

"Hello, Sam."

Feeling his heart stop beating just as it dropped along with his stomach, Sam found himself staring into the face of the first woman he'd allowed himself to love. "Jess," he whispered, eyes shooting around to recognize the apartment that he had once shared with Jessica Moore…up until the night of her…

"I'm surprised you remember me or this place considering things," she commented, smoothing a hand down the front of the Smurf t-shirt that she wore…the one he recalled she wore…the night Dean arrived back in his life.

"You mean, the night your brother showed up and dragged you back into the life you neglected to tell me anything about?" Jessica broke in the tone of voice that Sam also recalled. It was the one she used when in a snit.

Pushing back the sudden anxiety that seeing her was causing, Sam made himself think. The last thing he recalled was stepping into Bobby's attic and then this. His leg still hurt from running into the end table so he had an idea that he wasn't dreaming…a sour feeling began building in his stomach but he fought to ignore it. "Jess is dead. She's been dead for going on six years so…"

"Oh, I was dead from the first moment that Brady introduced me to you but I was just too naïve to understand that then," she replied, stepping closer even as Sam took steps back. "I didn't realize that until the night Brady came to the apartment and filled me in on your little…demon issues. That I was just something to use to keep you in their little game because you wanted out and they needed you kept in. You killed me, Sam!"

The lamp hurled across the room and caught him on the temple even while he was ducking, surprised by the sudden act if not the scream. "I know," he murmured, dropping to one knee when the room spun too fast and he wasn't certain if it was the blow to his temple or something else. "I didn't know, Jess. I swear to God…"

"You, swear to God, that's rich, Sam. Brady and his pals turned you into the poster child for Hell and all it cost, besides my life was what? Your soul? The lives of how many other people who loved or trusted you?" Jessica threw back, walking closer to slap a hand across his face. "I loved you! We had so many dreams and they were ruined the night your brother showed up. Why Sam?" she asked, dropping her voice to a softer one. "Why couldn't you have just said no?"

Jerking back when the gentle fingers stroked his cheek, Sam struggled to regain his balance. He needed to keep some distance between himself and whatever this was until he got a handle on it and…God, he wanted Dean right now.

"Why? Dean doesn't want you," Jessica remarked with between a smile and a sneer, kneeling down next to him when he fell back. "You know that in your heart, Sam. You remember your dreams. You remember seeing how Dean's life could have been if you'd died in that fire instead of your Mommy, how his life would've been better if he wouldn't have had to raise you or protect you all the time. You saw how his relationship, the real one that he buried, with your Dad would've been if it wasn't for you causing trouble and you saw what he could still have with Lisa if you had stayed gone or…food. Did you ever tell Dean about those images that you lived through for that year, Sam?" she asked sweetly, laughing softly when his breathing became more labored. "Guess not."

No, Sam knew he hadn't told his brother the other reason he kept having nightmares. It was bad enough that he suspected that Dean knew or had some clue that somehow Sam had learned things that Dean had fought to protect him from. But he had no intention of ever telling his brother that for the majority of the time he'd been held at the shapeshifter's hands that his own thoughts and dreams had also been turned against him in the most horrid and cruel ways.

Sam would never tell Dean about those images partly because he was ashamed of them and partly because he was still afraid that his brother would leave again and this time it was Sam who dreading that idea. Now, he understood his brother's pain the night he left for Stanford.

"You think if Dean knew everything that you've hidden away that he'd still be willing to forget his own life and that apple pie life you both secretly wanted?" she chided, shaking her head which allowed long blond hair to fall over one shoulder. "He'd be as ashamed of you as you are of yourself and…"

"Shut up," Sam finally found the strength to react, to ignore the oh-so-familiar voice mocking him and fight back. "You're not Jess. Jessica, my Jess, was a sweet, beautiful girl whose only damn crime was falling in love with me," he snapped, pushing to his feet with a stronger feeling building in his gut now. Anger. "Dean was right that night in Jericho. I should've told Jess about the things in my past and it's my penance to live knowing that she died alone and afraid…"

"Don't forget screaming for you, Sammy," Jessica smiled, moving out of his line of sight with a speed that told Sam he wasn't dealing with just anything. "But then, a lot of people die screaming around you, don't they? Mommy, Jess, Madison…even your big brother."

Reacting on instinct rather than training, Sam's hand shot out to grab whatever this thing was but found himself hurled across the apartment to crash into the kitchen counter. "Damn," he groaned, kicking himself. He'd been out of the hunting game for too long and it was showing.

"You were never cut out to be a hunter, Sam," Jessica told him as she appeared over him in a blink. "You always knew that you were the weak link in your little dysfunctional family. How many times was Dean hurt saving your ass? How many beatings did he take from dear old John because he stood up for you? You were good as a hunter when you started drinking little Ruby's blood and you know it."

Head reeling again, Sam spit blood but glared up. "Go to hell," he spat, rolling with the kick to his ribs so it was only a glancing blow but wasn't expecting the sharp stabbing pain in his hand when a knife suddenly went through his palm.

"No, that's where you should be," Jessica smiled, jerking the knife free to gaze at the blood as if considering, pulling it back to strike against Sam's back which he'd left exposed in some effort to stem the blood coming from his hand. "But too many people still want you. Pity all it will take is Dean's death since he had to be dealt with first."

"What?" Sam forgot his pain and the blood when he heard that. "Dean's…Dean's in Indiana. You can't hurt him."

Laughing, Jessica drew back the knife. "And you were in South Dakota. You're not in Kansas anymore, Sammy and both you and your big brother can die in here and you'll never find him because all it will take it for Dean to give in to one dream image or to have an injury that he can't heal from and poof! No more Winchesters."

Seeing the shock and horror building in the young hunter's eyes, the woman resembling Jessica laughed while the knife began to fall forward.

A hand shot out to grasp her wrist and with a sharp twist, the knife dropped to the floor to have a foot kick it away.

"What the…" Jessica gasped in sudden pain, screaming as a handful of hair was grabbed to force her head down into the countertop a few times.

"You. Don't. Touch. My. Son." a firm but definitely feminine voice warned with a final head slam to the counter and Jessica slowly slid to the ground only to vanish. "Well, that sucks."

Sam groaned as pain shot up his arm and blood continued to come from his hand, both things telling him that whatever this was or wherever he was, it was real enough that he could bleed. Jerking suddenly when hands touched him, every instinct that he'd fought to bury since Dean found him in Lawrence resurfacing. "No, don't…don't touch…"

"Sam, it's alright."

Something in the voice made Sam pay attention and when he looked up, he groaned. "Uh-huh, you wanna mess with my memory of Jess, fine. You do not get to touch her memory. I won't let you screw with what little good memory I have of my Mom."

Mary Winchester watched him through eyes that rang of patience only a mother could have but for Sam this wasn't the mother who had died in his nursery. This was the younger version of Mary that he had met the last time he and Dean had taken a trip back to the past and he wasn't certain what it would serve for whoever was doing this to use this version.

"Sam, we don't have time for this. Let me stop that bleeding before you go more into shock and then you have to get moving," she spoke gently now, reaching out slowly for his hand. "It's not safe for you to stay in one spot in here long and you have to find Dean."

Wincing at the pain as what he guessed he'd allow himself to think of as his Mother cleaned the wound before beginning to apply pressure to stop the flow of blood. "Dean's in Indiana," he muttered, adding in a softer voice. "Suppose he'd be better off there."

"That's what they want you to start doing, Sam," Mary looked up, wrapping gauze that she had found in a drawer around the pressure pad and just hoped it held until he got to his brother. "They'll prey on your weaknesses, your doubts, your fears and all of that mainly stems around your brother. Just like Dean will be facing his own. There, can you move your fingers?"

Frowning at the question, Sam wiggled his fingers to check and was relieved that he could move them with only a little pain. "Dean's…he's here?" he demanded, motioning around them. "Wherever here is, that is."

"Yes, he's trapped in here too but you can find him just like I'm sure he's looking for you by now," Mary helped him up, letting her eyes give her youngest a good look. "I swear, I have no idea how you got this tall. Sure wasn't from me, obviously."

"If you're just another image from this place, why should I trust you?" Sam demanded, blinking as he watched an expression that was so like one of his own cross Mary's pretty face. "I mean, you could be a trick to lure me into trusting you and then…well, like Dean says, been there, done that."

Nodding, Mary pursed her lips as she eyed this tall young man that reminded herself so much of both her and John. "Well, I see you have your Father's stubborn streak and I don't know how to explain this to you but I'm not a part of this reality, Sam. I'm…well, I'm not certain what I am or why I'm here. I just know that you and Dean need help because this place can kill you and that's not the only danger."

Considering, Sam looked around for a weapon since he clearly didn't have any on him when Mary held something out to him. "Take this," she urged, nodding to the silver knife in her hand. "Call it a family heirloom and it'll hurt anything that you come across."

"Whose was this?" Sam asked, taking the knife and noticing her gaze was serious as he saw the etching on the blade. "This is a hunter's knife. Dad had one that Dean still uses but this looks older."

"It's been in the family for generations so it is," Mary shrugged, looking over her shoulder as if feeling something. "Sammy, I know you're scared and after what you've been through you should be but so long as you believe in the bond that you share with Dean and know that he'll move heaven and hell, literally, for you then you'll make it out of here."

Sam nodded, unsure what else he could say to this young woman. "Can I ask you something?"

"Now, there's my side coming out," Mary smiled, nodding. "Ask but hurry."

"Why you in this form? Why not the older you and wouldn't it have made more sense for you to go to Dean?" Sam saw more sense in that because his brother actually had memories of Mary.

Mary's smile dimmed, her features taking on a harder look that sort of reminded Sam of his brother when Dean was brooding. "I chose this form because you actually had some dealings with me in this one and while it might have made more sense for me to go to your brother he had a rather bad experience with something that looked like me…it's confusing Sam," she sighed, seeing his concern. "It's going to be fine, baby. Just remember, that anything you see is most likely a trick to hurt you so just keep going until you land in a scene that you know that you and Dean both could share."

Thinking he understood that, Sam hesitated before finally taking a chance to do something he'd only dreamed of doing. Feeling that his time in this scene was growing dangerously thin, he reached down to hug his Mother tightly. "I love you, Mom," he whispered, closing his eyes against the burning tears that suddenly clouded his vision. "I'm sorry you had to die for…"

"Sam, my sweet little boy," Mary stretched up to cup his face between her palms, tears in her own eyes but she refused to allow them to fall. "None of this was or is your fault. I made the deal that brought that demon into our house. I'm just sorry that you and Dean grew up like you did and no…Dean would never regret his life and I still owe your Father a serious beatdown for most of his choices. Now go, find your brother," she hurried him toward a door that shouldn't have been there. "Be careful, Sam."

Mary watched as her youngest son went through the door with hopes that he'd be safe until she could catch back up to him. Satisfied that he would be, she felt the change in the room and turned to face several black eyed men who had appeared. "So, this is the best he could get?" shaking her head, she held out a hand as a short blade seemed to appear and faced them with a grim smile. "You want my sons? Then get through me first." she invited before silently offering a stern pray to someone else. "And you had better not screw up your end, buster."

Sam was forced to blink as he stepped into a new reality, frowning as the battered motel room looked oddly familiar but he couldn't place it right then. "So, where the hell is this?" he wondered, stepping further into the room when a sudden loud crash made him jump.

Whirling, he turned just as a door that he suddenly knew was to the bedroom crashed open to allow a body to land in the hall with a sickening thud and just as quickly Sam knew this place and he was afraid he knew this wasn't his memory…just an event that his selfishness caused to happen.

"Dean…" he whispered, not having to look to know that it was his brother on the floor and knew with a sudden shaking what he would see next. "Dad, no."

**Meanwhile, back in South Dakota:**

"You wanna tell me just what in the goddamn hell you let me get into?" Bobby Singer had been livid ever since Sam had vanished on his watch some 24-hours earlier and his mood hadn't improved with the arrival of Rufus Turner. "I thought you said those deaths were because of a fear demon or spirit or something!"

Rufus, an older black man with a graying beard, walked amongst the wrecked cars in Bobby's junkyard with an odd machine beeping softly in his hands. "Yeah, that's what I was told when I was given the files," he admitted, wincing at the low snarl that came his way. "Bobby, I swear, if I would've known the kid was layin' it on just so I'd turn it over to you then I'd never have…"

"Who or what gave you this tip, you old fool?" Bobby demanded, trailing behind his fellow hunter with his shotgun held ready and beginning to wonder if he shouldn't let loose a round or two of buckshot at Rufus. "I thought you'd found this."

Glancing over his shoulder with a snort, Rufus rolled his eyes before going back to tracking what the machine was looking for. "How the hell would I come up with deaths in your neck of the woods?" he tossed back gruffly, shaking his head. "I was down in Baltimore getting some supplies and maybe tracking a werewolf when I stumbled into a bar, met this hunter who was doing some research that involved deaths in South Dakota," he began to explain. "I took a closer look and realized they were right in your area so I suggested he hand it off to me and I'd hand it off to you since I know you've been looking for something easy to give the boys."

If Bobby had serious doubts before that just doubled them because no hunter that he'd ever come across would just hand over a case to another hunter, even if the other one was closer. This just screamed of a goddamn trap. "You get a name for this 'hunter' by any chance?"

The machine was now beeping louder so Rufus had knelt down to examine what appeared to be scorched footprints. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Campbell or something like that," he replied after a whack to his head reminded him of Bobby's presence. "I hate to you this but something was standing here with a great view to your house."

"Campbell?" Bobby was too busy fixating on the name to hear the rest of what Rufus was saying. "Son of bitch!" he shouted, kicking a tire over. "That no good son of a cold blooded bitch! What this guy look like?"

Standing up more slowly now that he'd gotten an idea on how pissed off Bobby was, Rufus tried to recall more details. "Hell, I don't know. Young guy I guess, maybe a little younger than Dean. Dark blond hair cut short with an attitude and Bobby, you better start breathing before I have to call that pretty Sheriff out here," he warned, noticing that his friend was snarling under his breath. "You know him?"

"Not to meet face to face but I've talked to him on the phone while Dean was pounding the hell outta that 'shifter in my basement," Bobby grumbled, jerking off his hat in a move that was pure frustration. "Christian Campbell is Dean and Sam's cousin and I'm laying odds that their granddad is up to his bald head in this mess somehow."

Pocketing the device, Rufus kicked some dirt with the toe of his boot and recalled that feisty little psychic warning Dean not to trust his mother's family. Seemed odd at the time but since Rufus knew that boy hardly trusted anyone he'd forgotten about it…until now.

"Alright, so how do you figure the Campbells could be involved?" he asked, following Bobby back as he stormed to the house. "Better yet, why would their own grandfather want to do 'em harm?"

Slamming through the front door and heading straight for the library, Bobby paused only long enough to throw a dark look at his old friend. "Hell if I know, but it's too big of a coincidence that a hunter matching Christian's description gives you these files just as Dean's heading to Indiana which leaves Sam alone."

"Kid wasn't alone, Bobby," Rufus argued, barely missing getting hit with a book as Bobby tossed things from the shelf. "You were here. So, how'd anyone get in here to grab him and what nailed Dean at that Gumby chick's place?"

"Elementary, my dear chuckleheads, good old Grandpa Campbell is currently working some really bad mojo with some really bad sonsofbitches and they've got my two favorite chuckleheads by the nosehairs, so to speak."

While Rufus was busy grabbing for his pistol, Bobby turned from the shelves a little more slowly to see a shorter man with unruly blond hair, a clear smirk and a candy apple in one hand, slouching on the sofa seat.

"Damn it, Bobby! I thought you had this places warded against everything!" Rufus snapped, finally pulling his pistol out but found himself gaping when it disappeared at a snap of a pair of fingers. "This ain't no demon."

"Please! Do I look like a demon to you?" the other snorted, rolling his eyes that appeared to be twinkling when they landed on Bobby. "This sinking in yet or do you need me to make a Ark appear on your front lawn to go with all of those wonderfully trashy decorations that Dean put up?"

Bobby considered himself a patient man. Lord knew he had to be when dealing with John Winchester on a good day and those boys truly tested him but this…this time he was even surprised that he hadn't pulled a shotgun…not that he figured it would do any good if this was what he thought it was.

"Hang on a sec, son," he urged, walking around the desk to look up at the ceiling. "Castiel! Get your damn Angel ass down here in 5.4 seconds before I…"

"Ahh, now you had to go and ruin it," the guy on the sofa muttered, crunching into his apple again even as the sound of rustling wings announced the arrival of… "Hey, bro, long time no see. You have forgiven me for that little TV thing, right?"

Castiel had been dealing with a lot since the Apocalypse had not happened in the correct way. He had warring Angels in Heaven, shapeshifters assuming the form of his friend and who knows what else Dean could find to get into.

The trench-coat wearing Angel had been trying to keep an eye or an ear on the brothers since he didn't like the rumors he'd been picking up so he wasn't surprised by Bobby's shout since he'd gotten the feeling that Sam and Dean were in trouble.

He wasn't, however, expecting to arrive at Bobby's house to be confronted by…"Gabriel."

**A/N: **I know, what an evil spot to end the chapter. Not to worry, Chapter 5 will be coming since it looks like both boys will be facing bad stuff. Will Dean find Sam before his already fragile mind gets too much weaker or will something keep them apart forever? And just what is that former Trickster playing Angel's part in this? Stay tuned for more and see.


	5. Chapter 5

**Fears & Dreams**

**Chapter Five**

**Singer Salvage Yard, Souix Falls, South Dakota:**

"Gabriel."

Bobby Singer had been in this line of work for more years than he cared to admit and he had seen some weird things come and go through his house but this, he would grudgingly admit, had to be the weirdest.

He'd had a hunch who the candy apple crunching stranger was when he just appeared in the library but he wanted a second opinion. Something that he got the moment Castiel arrived and saw the man.

Now any regular person would or should be cowed by the menacing tone the trench-coat wearing Angel used but then clearly the Trickster playing Archangel wasn't normal nor did he appeared the least bit worried as he finished his apple.

"Still pissed off about that little TV thing, I take it," he mused, tossing the apple core into the trash can while giving the mortals in the room a smirk. "He's got no sense of humor…though for that matter none of the family does."

"What are you doing here, Gabriel?" Castiel demanded, taking a step closer while his already dark tone dropped another notch. "Did you have anything to do with that happened to Sam and Dean this time or…"

Putting on a hurt expression, Gabriel reached for a new candy bar. "Cas, I'm hurt that you'd have so little trust in your big brother to think that I'd do anything to hurt…"

"You killed Dean how many times in Florida just to make a point?" Castiel cut him off before Bobby could interject. "You trapped them in reality TV where any of those situations could have done permanent harm and…"

"And I got myself killed by Lucy to save their behinds and I went and dragged Sammy's butt outta the Cage so I think that evens things out, don't you?" Gabriel tossed back, something close to a pout on his face. "I thought hanging around Dean would loosen you up. No such luck."

Seeing the Angel frown, Bobby finally stepped forward while hoping for this one time that Rufus kept his mouth shut. "Alright, if you two are done, how about you answering a couple questions?" he settled a hard look on the Archangel. "For starters, why did you yank Sam outta the Cage and what in the hell is goin' on now?"

"Now, here's a man who knows how to get to the point and he hasn't even pointed anything sharp at me yet…not that it would help," Gabriel grinned, standing easily to go over and smooth out a wrinkle on Cas's trench coat. "You really need a new wardrobe, bro."

"Cas, heel," Bobby snapped before the Angel could pull that shiny knife he knew he carried. "I don't care who this is, if he knows what's happening and where the boys are then he talks, we listen, and you damn well better hope I like his answers if you knew there was trouble."

Snorting a laugh, Gabriel struggled to put on a straight face. "He's still got a link to Dean so of course he knew my two favorite chuckleheads were in the deep end of the pool without a boat. He's just still too busy cleaning up Dad's mess to give a crap…or he would've yanked Sam out long before I did."

"Here we go," Rufus breathed, seeing the vein in Bobby's forehead explode a second before he whirled. "Angels, Bobby," he called. "He can wipe you off the map."

"I don't care!" Bobby snapped, glaring at the now grim looking Castiel. "Well? Is that true? Could you have gotten Sam back?" he demanded, seeing the truth when the Angel looked away. "Son of a bitch! You lied to Dean when you told him that you couldn't get to his brother? You could've stopped all that crap from happening to Sam!"

Castiel frowned, clearly unhappy that this news had been let out of the bag as he glared at the older Archangel. "There were reasons that I couldn't…"

"Riiight," Gabriel shook his head then smacked him in the head. "Speaking of Sam, I go on vacation and he gets grabbed by a shapeshifter for a year? What the h.e. double hockey sticks where you doing besides getting that stick outta your…"

"Alright, enough!" Bobby shoved both Angels apart, not even considering the risk. "You, talk. Cas, sit and shut up!"

Rufus groaned, knowing that this was going to turn bad sooner or later but saw the shorter more amusing Angel grin.

"Well, clearly someone thinks I'm worth more alive since I remember getting my own knife shoved in me one night," Gabriel sat on Bobby's desk with a small show, swinging his legs in a way that reminded the hunter of both Winchesters. "I woke up on a beach surrounded by a bounty of bikini clad beauties and figured out that I was so not dead. I go checking on things and find out that both Lucy and Mikey are in the Cage…with Sam so I go yank the kid out since no one deserves an eternity with those two…not even a Winchester."

"Why didn't you take him to Dean?" Bobby demanded, knowing some of this from Sam but was curious about the Archangel's side.

A slight frown formed. "Kid was screwed up when I got him out. I mean, Luc did a number on his body but it was what Michael did to his head. I knew that was the worst thing for him. I'd told Sammy that he and Dean were each other's weakness but Michael played that up to the fullest and gave the kid every dark part in his brother's life that Dean never wanted him to know about and…" he turned a look toward the hunter. "You really needed to put a load of that crap in the shotgun in their old man."

"Yep, considered it more than once," Bobby nodded, ignoring the look Rufus gave him. "Go on."

"I told Sam that Mikey only gave him the worst parts and I did convince him to go see Deano but then when he saw the house, the chippie, the white picket fence…good God I could've hurled at the idea, he panicked. He said he wanted his brother to have a normal life," Gabriel sounded unhappy by the choice when he shrugged. "I had to let him go and hope for the best. I didn't like when he ended up with baldy but knew that Sam was a day or two away from tossing his chips in and heading for Dean so I went on vacation in Bermuda and…clearly I shouldn't have…Castiel."

"Before I start asking about now, I want to know why you told Dean you couldn't get Sam back," Bobby pinned the unhappy Angel with a stern glare while he also grabbed a sticky piece of candy off his desk. "Get offa my desk, boy."

Castiel took his time answering, understanding that this choice might not have been a wise one. "I…Sam had asked me not to interfere. That if he trapped Lucifer, to leave him alone and not to try to get hin out no matter what Dean said."

"You listened to Sam?" Bobby roared, standing up in such a force that even Gabriel jumped while Rufus just slumped in a chair to cover his eyes. "You don't listen to Sam! Hell, no one listens to a damn Winchester when he's self-sacrificing! You've been around here long enough to know that!"

"Dean listened to Sam that time when he let him go off on his own," Castiel argued, shooting his brother a glare when he clucked his tongue at him.

"Yeah and that scheme worked out so well." he chided with an eye roll. "Sam got the crap kicked out of him and met Lucy that night while Dean spent an enjoyable few hours five years in the future with your stoned out hippie self…which FYI, you make a sloppy hippie."

Several sets of eyes watched the joke playing Archangel until he spread his hands. "What? Cas is the only one of us who can watch the boys?" another eye roll. "Please, you wanna know how many times I foiled one of Zach's plans?"

"I don't wanna know," Bobby muttered, sitting back down but pinning the sweet lover with a look. "What's going on and where are the idjits?"

Gabriel now turned serious, wrapping up his half-eaten candy bar. "Where is a little problem but I'm sure I can find 'em or Mr. Serious over here could. The issue is finding them before it's too late."

"Too late for what?" Rufus demanded, not caring for that. "Who nailed them? Demons, Angels or…"

"Depends on things really," Gabriel replied, beginning to pace. "Sammy wasn't supposed to come out of the whole 'shifter thing alive because they wanted him kept outta the way and it would be easier to hand him over if he was in la-la land."

"Hand him over to who and what the hell wants him?" Bobby asked, leveling a look at Castiel. "You have a clue? Cause if you do then what Dean wanted to do to you for screwin' with the Impala is nothin' compared to what I'll do to ya."

"When Sam decided he was going to go find Dean is when they knew they needed to take him out of the game," Gabriel declared, choosing to forego his comments on Castiel touching Dean's precious car for a later time. "Both Angels and Demons want Sam and old man Campbell sold himself to both sides when he sold out Sammy."

Rufus and Bobby exchanged glances. "Sam was going back to Dean and they needed to keep Dean out of it as long as possible so…" Bobby didn't care for how this was looking. "The Campbells have been gathering Alphas for Crowley so they nailed Sam, let a 'shifter take his place hoping it would be enough to appease Dean while they…what the hell did that old man let happen to Sam?"

"The shapeshifters kept Sam alive for his memories but they also turned a Djinn loose on him to turn his mind against him," Castiel sighed, feeling a heated gaze land on him. "Sam's nightmares recently, his uneasiness with being alone, or with Dean leaving him is all because of what he was forced to endure in his own mind. Sam hasn't told Dean this…nor has he told him everything that happened before he was attacked in Lawrence, the things that made him afraid of their mother's family and why he was going back to Dean."

"Bro, when you have two hunters already pissed off it's not advisable to tell them crap that will piss them off more," Gabriel rolled his eyes, muttering. "Where did I go wrong with you? Look, Between the Demons wanting Sammy for what he did to Lucy and the Angels who are ticked off about Michael landing in the Cage, both sides want him and both sides offered baldy what he wanted."

Trying to ignore the building rage, Bobby returned his attention to the Archangel. "What's he want and who brought him back?" he wanted to know. "Dean said Samuel died."

"Crowley brought him back in order to have his own hunter finding the Alphas and as a way to get to Sam and Dean if he wanted," Castiel spoke again, adding quickly. "I'm at a loss to what he's doing now."

"All it took was a simple drug on something the boys touched or ate and that gave these morons the ability to find and grab them out of this location into someplace else but unlike the Djinn realities, the dangers are real and either or both could die," Gabriel informed the hunters seriously. "Sam's mind is still too weak and they'll target him because if he breaks mentally he'll be easy to use and if Sammy goes down…"

"Dean'll follow because that boy will do anything to help his brother," Bobby groaned, deciding that he wasn't letting those two outta his site again. "Can you find 'em?"

Whipping a map out of thin air, Gabriel laid it on the desk. "They're in a physical location, it's just finding it that'll take time but the problem if in the meantime, they'll be facing various realities that could do 'em in."

"Demons don't have that kind of juice," Rufus argued, stepping closer to see that the map up upside down and in another language.

"Right on the first guess, bunky," Gabriel nodded, sliding a look to Castiel. "Which Angel has the juice to pull a reality game and has an interest in seeing the dynamic yo-yos dead or vegetables?"

Not looking interested in helping the former Trickster, a growl from Bobby spurred Castiel into action. "Dean has made enemies of several but…if I had to guess? I'd say Campbell could be getting help from Baltzathar on this since both Sam and Dean wanted to fry him in Holy Oil."

"Knew I liked those boys for a reason," Gabriel muttered, looking at Bobby. "Campbell wants his daughter back. He sells his grandsons to the highest bidder and he gets her, back as she was before he died. Before she married John Winchester, before…"

"Before she had Dean and Sam," Castiel finished, understanding the significance of that and also the reasons Missouri Mosley gave Dean that message. "Campbell blames Dean for the death of his daughter."

"Ding, ding, ding, give that Angel a cigar," Gabriel tipped an invisible hat. "The old man thinks that if it hadn't been for Dean going back in time, bringing Mary into contact with the Yellow Eyed Demon that none of that would've happened to his family so…" he paused to allow this to sink in.

It was Bobby who finally understood and it was like a fist crashing into his gut. "This isn't happening all because Sam pissed off the higher powers," he muttered quietly. "That's a by-product. This is happening to hurt Dean because everyone knows if they hurt Sam then…"

"Dean gets hurt," Castiel nodded grimly. "Kill Sam or break him and Dean suffers with the guilt or he rushes in blindly and…"

"And he's dead and I didn't drop a piano on him," Gabriel nodded smartly, tapping the map. "They're cocky so they won't cover their tracks. I can find 'em, Cas can break the reality walls but it'll be up to the boys to break free themselves."

He paused to look between the mortals. "The other side of this coin will be the Campbells. If they get an idea that someone's on to them then they could up the ante because wherever Sam and Dean are, it's possible for them to die by normal means." he stopped to explain in simpler details. "If baldy figures out that we're looking or close to finding them, then either he or one of his lackeys goes in, pops a .45 into Dean's skull and Sammy's left all alone. Kid won't last a day without his brother now. You need to stall them or in the best case scenario…"

"Put a goddamn round into that son of a bitch's skull?" Bobby was all prepared for that. "Rufus and I'll handle that end. You two idjits just stop your damn bickerin' and go find my boys before I use that Holy Oil on your feathered asses!" he snapped, stomping out to find his supplies and dragging a still confused Rufus with him.

Silently considering the mortals for a long moment, Gabriel slowly turned to eye Castiel who it seemed was watching him curiously. Almost like he was waiting for something.

"So, I guess it's good that I never ran into him right after that whole little Mystery Spot deal, right?" he coughed, slightly amused by the hunter and also more than slightly worried that he would try to carry out the threat.

"That and the fact that you had Dean shot in the back in that TV show," Castiel nodded, an almost human gesture when he went on with a smile. "Bobby does tend to be quite…literal for a human and he's also very protective of the Winchesters."

"Yeah, he should've faced with Zachariah," Gabriel muttered, then grabbed for his candy bar again. "Okay, time to get busy and find the dynamic duo before I don't have anyone to play with."

Castiel considered mentioning that Dean still didn't care for the Archangel but then chose to remain silent. As he learned, it was better for Gabriel to come to that conclusion on his on…if he hadn't already. "Can you find them?"

"Cas, this is me. Have some confidence, kid," the older Angel grinned but his smile dimmed when he shifted away. "Hang on because this could get bumpy but I'll find 'em even if I have to go knock on a few doors that I'd rather not."

Looking at his brother for a long moment, Castiel was about to ask something when Bobby stuck his head in. "Rufus and I've got an idea where Campbell will be hold up so you two find the boys, buzz me when you do and do not blow up my house." he ordered, leaving with a muttered curse about featherbrained morons.

"Guess I should've told him that more than likely half of what baldy has with him aren't human anymore," Gabriel mused while chewing candy, seeing the blank look on Castiel's face. "What? If I would've said that would you have let them go? No, before you pop off and we need them distracted if we'll going to get the chuckleheads back now go get some of this stuff so we can get started."

"This had better work, Gabriel," Castiel warned, taking the list that had been shoved at him and vanishing.

Sighing now that he was alone, the usually happy and joking Archangel lost his smile, sitting on the edge of the desk to look up. "You are so going to owe me for this," he muttered. "Either Cas will kill me or that old hunter will light me up and that's assuming that Dean Winchester doesn't slaughter me on sight," scowling as if listening to something only he could hear, he waved a disgusted hand. "Yeah, yeah, whatever but you better hope those boys don't get hurt but then what do you care, hurting them is what you were always good at."

Gabriel had just pushed off the desk when Castiel returned with the ancient ingredients needed to cast the spell that should locate the Winchesters. "Okay-dokey, smokey, let's go find 'em."

**A/N: **_I know, I know but we'll getting back to where we left Sam and Dean in Chapter 6. This just seemed to work as a chapter all its own…darn Angels…but who is Gabriel talking to? Hmm, good question._


	6. Chapter 6

**Fears & Dreams**

**Chapter Six**

**A/N: **_This chapter gets its own little warning label since it'll show and/or mention cases of abuse. So, just an FYI for later in the chapter._

**SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN**

"Oh, shit," Dean Winchester breathed upon coming to face the evil looking clown. His shoulder was still throbbing and his mind was swirling with too many questions but nowhere near enough answers. He just wanted to find his little brother and get the hell out of here. "This is so not looking good. I'm not afraid of clowns you Stephen King movie reject."

It took a moment to understand that the clown wasn't looking at him but at the crowd of children he seemed to be entertaining and Dean frowned. He tried to recall the scene as if it could be a memory of his and Sam's youth…before the whole clown phobia took hold but nothing came to mind.

He seemed to be in a backyard of a medium sized home in the suburbs of some fancy gated community with it's landscaped lawn and gardens, a pond with koy and…of course gnomes, and a white picket fence. The perfect house in the perfect community.

"Something tells me this won't be something I…" he stopped when the back door opened to allow a pretty blond young woman carrying a birthday cake out and despite the years since he had last seen her Dean recognized her right off, swallowing the sour taste in his mouth. "Jessica."

"Hey, don't forget the candles, babe," she called over her shoulder when the mob of children surrounded her.

The voice the answered back from the house froze Dean to the spot even though he knew this wasn't real, it still hurt to think of what his brother could've had.

"I'm not coming out there until they've run off half of that sugar," Sam stepped out but this wasn't the Sam that Dean knew…hell if he hadn't known the voice he would've had to have looked twice to recognize his baby brother.

His Sam, even when he was sneaking around with Ruby, still could occasionally look like an overgrown kid. These days, Sam did look like the same overgrown kid Dean had taken from Stanford with the overly long floppy hair and the too big for him hoodies. That was the kid brother Dean knew.

This…Sam...was nothing like that. He stepped from the house dressed in a gray three-piece suit with a missing tie his only concession to what was clearly a birthday party for a child. The floppy brown hair that Dean was always griping about was cut short but styled and… "God, he's got it gelled," he groaned, knowing that this was more nightmare than dream because Sammy wouldn't be caught dead in that suit.

Watching as Sam handed Jessica the candles, he caught the ring on his hand. "He's married…to Jessica," he whispered, surprised at how he felt and ignoring the unspoken questions that sprung to his mind. "Sammy."

He watched as the kids ran around but he was more interested in his brother's reaction to the clown since normally Sam would start sweating at the sight of one but today he wasn't paying any attention. In fact, he seemed at ease.

A small boy about five ran past and Dean instantly recognized Sam's eyes in the child, feeling again that gut punch but something else bothered him…something he couldn't put his finger on.

"Your brother called earlier to wish Johnny a Happy Birthday and to talk with you," Jessica suddenly spoke, running a hand up Sam's back that irked Dean for some escapable reason. "You were in your office so I just said you weren't home. You aren't going to call him back, are you?"

Dean's eyes narrowed, waiting for his brother's reply even as the clown moved around the yard as if it were watching him.

"No, I'm not calling Dean back," Sam sighed, brushing a speck of dirt from his pants as he looked out at something. "Ever since Dad died and you and I got married, he's been too unstable. When he's not drunk then he's coming up with these off the wall stories about demons or things like that. Dad always feared that Dean would come unglued one day since he saw Mom get killed by that wolf while we were camping but…I never thought he'd go this far. It's just as well if he stays back East where all he can hurt is himself."

Face tightening, Dean felt his gun hand twitch at those words. "So, we're playing this game again, huh?" he muttered, refusing to let this imagined reality hurt him. "This isn't Sammy…this isn't his life…"

"But it could have been,"

Cursing himself for allowing his emotions to make him blind to his surroundings, Dean turned with a lot more calm than he was really feeling to face Jessica. "So, you can see me. Can Sam?"

"No, but then you know that isn't your brother," she looked toward where 'Sam' was talking with another child's parents. "This is just a way to show you how Sam could have lived if you had left him alone and his Jessica hadn't been killed."

"No dice, babe. Yellow Eyes would have come for Sam and Jessica even if I hadn't showed up that night so you won't win that way," he sneered, motioning around. "Sam wanted to be a lawyer once, he wanted normal only because it was the one thing I couldn't give him growing up. In his heart, I don't think he would have been happy playing dress up everyday."

Jessica's smile was cool as she laughed, a shriller laugh than he remembered her having. "Sam would have been happy if you would have never bothered him but you needed him. It was you and your petty insecurities that ruined your brother, Dean. Not the demons, not even the blood. You ruined your precious little brother and now, he's going to die."

"The hell he is," Dean gritted, forcing down his concern for Sammy to focus on the blond woman in front of him. "Where is he?"

"Oh, you mean your Sammy?" she smiled at some inner joke. "Right now, I think he's watching your Daddy beat you almost into a coma over another time you screwed up but then you didn't want Sammy to ever know about that, did you?"

Blinking as those words registered, Dean groaned. No, he had never wanted Sam to know half of the crap that really went on with their Dad because he knew Sam would feel guilty. He had known that Michael had told Sam more than he liked but he didn't know everything that Sam did and that worried him. If Sam learned too much here, his already weak mind, the mind and heart that carried so much guilt already, could be damaged beyond Dean's ability to repair.

"Well, since I don't plan on that happenin' in this lifetime, how about I just kill you and get going?" Dean challenged, slipping the small silver knife out of his pocket.

Smiling in a way that reminded Dean way too much of a shark, Jessica shook her head sadly. "And leave the party so soon?" she chided. "I can't let that happen, Dean, and besides Pooky wants to say hello."

Instincts had him turning just as a sharp pain shot through his already injured shoulder and he couldn't suppress the scream this time as a sharp object struck from behind. "Sonuvabitch!" he hissed, clenching his teeth and twisting to avoid the clown that was lifting the now bloody knife. "I changed my damn mind, I hate clowns!"

Barely noticing that it seemed as if most of the environment had come to a stop, Dean was busy avoiding both a hard kick to his already sore ribs by huge clown shoes. "Tell me something," he grunted when a kick from a pointed toe took from by surprise. "What's everyone's interest in hurting Sammy? Can't all you evil sons of bitches just leave the kid alone?"

"Sam?" Jessica arched a brow before smiling. "You really are the dim one in your family, aren't you?" she mocked, watching as Dean struggled to stay alive with a knife wielding clown after him. "Hurting Sam, turning him into a drooling vegetable is icing for the higher powers, Dean. It's you we want to hurt," she announced, shaking her head when he finally regained his balance only to lose it when she shifted a leg out to trip him. "Think about it. We hurt Sammy or show him stuff that you never wanted him to know about because he'd feel guilty and that hurts you. Your death means that Sammy isn't protected and once he serves the boss's purpose, he can either join you in death or…be used for food by some other interested parties."

Spinning when he hit the ground this time, Dean brought the knife out to slash at the clown and was rewarded by a pained howl. "This is all just to…hurt me?" he stared at the blond woman his brother had once loved, grunting as a sudden rake of nails down his already burned and now bleeding shoulder took his breath. "Why? Who…who'd the hell I piss off this week?"

"Think about, Dean," she urged, reaching down to grip his throat with fingers that were stronger than the real Jessica should have been. "A lot of people would pay to make you hurt but this particular person has a two-fold reason to see you scream in agony and Sam also plays into that as well if one considers how your Mom died. I mean, if it hadn't been for you the deal your Mom made wouldn't have been needed since it was your screw-up that brought the demon right to her and if Sam hadn't been born she wouldn't have been killed in his nursery," she smiled, eyes cold as the young hunter began to comprehend what was being said. "This sinking in yet, hero?"

Dean felt his mind going blank from the lack of air as she squeezed his airway but something nagged him, something in her words screamed that he should understand even as his fingers tried to find the knife that he'd dropped.

Finally he felt weakening fingers slip on the blade only to have it picked up and his hazy green eyes shot up past the form of whatever this was choking him to see the Sam of this reality looking at the knife as if it was a foreign object. Then sad hazel eyes that shouldn't have been able to see him locked on his gaze and despite the pounding in his head, he thought he saw his lips move to mouth two words…

"I'm sorry."

Sadly expecting this reality's version of his brother to plunge the knife into his heart or something, Dean was just as surprised as the Jessica clone when Sam moved with an agility that had always amazed the older Winchester.

Grabbing a startled Jessica around the shoulders with one strong arm, he plunged the knife into her back, just where her heart would be…if she was truly alive, and twisting it hard. "Get away from him," he ordered in a tone that hauntingly reminded Dean of their late Father.

"Sam…wha…?" Jessica gaped at him, trying to look back as he let her drop to the lawn. Her eyes clearly showed her confusion. "This…you can't be…it's not possible…"

Eyes hard, 'Sam' glanced between the fallen woman and Dean, the gaze softening slightly when it met his but the tone he used toward her was pure ice. "Maybe, maybe not but just an FYI, it doesn't matter if something's possible or not…a Winchester or at least certain ones, be it displaced in time, reality or just put in somewhere as a way to hurt, can't be made to harm another," he told her.

Dropping down next to Jessica to grip a handful of luscious blond hair, 'Sam' added. "In other words, you don't ever put me against my brother in any damn reality." the knife flashed across her throat and soon the body vanished along with the clown and the children.

Looking around, 'Sam' turned immediately from where he'd been kneeling to lock eyes again with a stunned, confused, and slowly going into shock Dean. "For once, don't start asking questions and just listen," he urged quickly, grabbing several napkins from nearby to press against his bleeding and burned shoulder.

"You're not Sam," Dean stated, ignoring the stupidity of that statement and the eye roll it got in return. "I mean, I thought you were just part of this…"

"Yeah, they thought so too only it won't take 'em long to figure out that this little event has gotten off the track," Sam applied pressure to slow the bleeding while wrapping it with a few strips of the suit jacket that he seemed only too pleased to shred. "I can block them long enough for you to get out of this place but you need to find your…me, I suppose it'd be easier to say."

Watching as long fingers quickly and efficiently finished wrapping his newest wound before a hand was held out to him, Dean hesitated a moment before finally grasping it. "Why did you help me?" he asked, not understanding any of this. "What she said…is…my trip back in time did that cause this to happen now?"

"I don't have an answer as to why I was able to break free. I just know that the words I said, this life, I wouldn't have chosen it over my brother…no version of me ever would and this voice in my head said that I had to help you," 'Sam' replied, steadying Dean when he swayed. "As for what she said, I don't know. I haven't had dealings with them but I do know that you're running outta time, Dean."

"I won't let them, anyone, hurt Sam," Dean responded firmly, wincing when strong fingers gripped his arms. "I'd forgotten how strong you could be…my…Sammy isn't as strong like that right now."

"No, he's not and he's also not strong enough emotionally," 'Sam' shot a quick look over his shoulder. "Dean, they can hurt Sam emotionally since he's still raw from what he endured at that shapeshifter's hands and what Michael said while in the Cage but while you're strong enough to refuse the images you see, it is easy for you to die in here of a physical wound. That burn's already infected and if that knife wound isn't stitched and cleaned you could bleed out. You need to find Sam and get out before they decide to cut their losses."

Gazed narrowed, Dean looked at this version of his brother. He hadn't thought that he'd seen a lot of his little brother in this stranger but now…now he saw the concern and just a hint of Sam's impatience when he slowly nodded. "Where is he?"

"Trapped in a scene that you can't get into," he replied grimly, seeing the muscle twitch in Dean's jaw. "You can't protect him from everything and Michael already told him most of that day. You need to figure out a memory that holds a special meaning to you both and head for it. Sam should too but you'll need to be ready to act because once he gets the idea that you know what's happening, Sam will become a liability and he'll have him killed."

"Yeah, over my dead body," Dean growled, taking the knife that was offered with a frown. "What happens to you now?"

A shrug. "Who knows since I don't know what I am to begin with," 'Sam' smiled tightly, pointing off toward the end of the lawn. "Go that way and just keep going. Ignore the scenes as best you can and for God's sake, stop getting hurt!"

"Killer clowns, Sammy," Dean shot back, seeing a smile that was briefly like his brother's before it darkened. "Be careful, huh."

"You too, Dean," this version of his brother turned away but not before Dean had seen the look of grim determination in his eyes. Waiting until this version of his older brother, a man so different than his own, had rounded the house, 'Sam' turned to face the group of new arrivals. "You just missed him."

The tall thin man who appeared to be around Dean's age with close-cropped blond hair shook his head regretfully at what should have been a mere figment. "Not sure how this happened, but you really should've stuck to your role in this, Sam."

"And you should've stuck to whatever pit spawned you," 'Sam' shot back, feeling the change in the air and knowing that Dean had safely passed. Now to just buy him the time. "Before you try to kill me, which by the way will be the only way that you'll get to this place's Sam and Dean, why not tell me why?" he asked, understanding that he couldn't take on all of them but knowing one thing. What one version saw or knew, another could pick up. "Why does he want them dead? I thought every version grew up on the mantra that there was nothing more important than family."

"There isn't," the other man responded, blinking to allow the black to show in his eyes. "But then Winchesters aren't family. Campbell's stick together and Samuel wants what's his back…no matter who he has to kill to do it."

'Sam' was afraid that was the case but all he could hope was that both Winchester were able to stay a step ahead of the wolves until help arrived or they found one another. Turning to bring up a hand to access powers he'd forgotten he'd ever had, he screamed when a demon's hand came through his chest from behind. "They're…stronger than…you," he gritted.

"Together, but apart?" Christian Campbell smiled cruelly. "Apart, they're too weak and that weakness will be what kills them."

As this reality seemed to fade, neither the young Campbell or his cohorts noticed a grim set of eyes that watched from a distance. "No, not this time you little bastard."

**Into another scene:**

Dean hadn't liked leaving the altered version of his brother but knew that the young man had known that he was probably sacrificing himself and Dean understood that the only way to stop this was to find his little brother…he just wasn't sure how he was going to do that.

He suspected the memory that it would take to lock on. His only problem was getting there in one piece since his arm had started bleeding again two more realities ago and he was getting dizzy which could have been from shock or blood loss, he wasn't sure which one.

"Damn it," he groaned, slumping against a wall without even looking to see where he was this time until he heard a moan that he was fairly certain hadn't come from him.

Forcing his eyes to clear, he noticed that he was in a room that smelled of stale beer, smoke, and…pushing up from the wall, he noticed the body on the bed first and after a long track through his memory brought a name to the face along with a few dozen curses.

Lee Stanton had been a pal of John's from Vietnam. A lackluster hunter who was more drunk and braggart than anything else, he had been around a few months before Sam had turned sixteen…in fact, if Dean was right he hadn't seen Stanton since…

Green eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as he looked at the man passed out on the queen sized motel room bed when another moan made him forget his own pain, tracking it to the dimly lit bathroom.

A quick look at the calendar on the wall told him the date, May 2, 1993; the night his little brother turned sixteen. Making himself think back, Dean clearly recalled being on a hunt in Montana with Caleb and Pastor Jim. It had taken far longer than he'd planned since Dean had promised Sam that he'd be back for his birthday but hadn't made it.

He'd called but Sam had been in a pissy mood, refusing to take the call even when John had threatened him. In an effort to defuse John's temper, Dean had let it go and figured he'd make it up to his little brother when they joined back up at Bobby's the next week…but he'd gotten Sam much sooner than a week and a furious father shortly after that.

Hesitating before pushing open the door to the bathroom, Dean swallowed the suddenly sick feeling in his gut while praying he didn't see what he already knew he would. He remembered him and Caleb being out hunting that woman's spirit when Jim Murphy called from back at the motel with orders for Dean to get his ass back there with all haste.

Just hearing the Holy man utter those words warned Dean that something was wrong and when he arrived back at the motel he wasn't certain what was more shocking. The fact that Jim was screaming at his Father over the phone, calling him every name that he could think off or the shaking, badly beaten newly turned sixteen year old Sam who immediately launched himself into Dean's arms, despite his telling him only two weeks earlier that he was too old to be babied anymore.

Sam had never told them exactly what had happened to him, though Dean could still smell the alcohol on him so he'd assumed that Sam, in his royally pissed off mood, had somehow gotten into John's liquor and either had a fight with their Dad or something else.

Tossing a sour look back to the half-dressed passed out man on the bed, Dean suddenly had a bad feeling he now knew what else it had been. Nudging the door open, he felt his already glassy eyes mist over because anytime he saw his little brother afraid it would bring him to near tears. Even an image meant to invoke this reaction, did it.

"Sammy," he whispered, watching as his brother, who had just started on that damn growth spurt, curled into a corner of the filthy bathroom while clutching his torn shirt to him like a shield while unknown tears fell from hazel eyes that showed the signs of either drugs or alcohol and Dean knew what had made Sam run to him. "Damn it, Sammy. Why didn't you tell me?"

Wanting to forget the importance of moving on, of finding his little brother's current self, Dean just wanted to take this battered boy into his arms as he had once…and then go kill the son of a bitch out in the bedroom. Rage building, he had taken a step when a hand suddenly gripped his good shoulder.

"Dean, we need to talk."

Not bothering to turn to the voice, he looked in the cracked bathroom mirror at the grim looking reflection of his father…well, at least John Winchester when he'd been younger…before he had sons, before the fire took his wife, his joy, and turned him into something that Dean still avoided thinking too hard on. "Sonuvabitch."

**A/N: **I haven't forgotten Sammy. We left him in a very nasty image so come back for Chapter 7 to see how he reacts to a vision that Dean had never wanted him to know about and what else does this place have in store for the boys? Who's behind helping them and what is the master plan? Be patient and all will be revealed…I know, I need to write faster.


	7. Chapter 7

**Fears & Dreams**

**Chapter Seven**

**A/N: **_This chapter gets its own little warning label since it'll show and/or mention cases of abuse. It will also paint John in a not so nice picture all the time. So, just an FYI for later in the chapter._

**SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN**

**Meanwhile, elsewhere at the same time:**

"No," Sam whispered, seeing his brother's already bloodied body.

He had always suspected a tiny bit that Dean had come out on the worse end of the deal that time he'd run away to Flagstaff but Sam had been too selfish to really understand just what his brother might've gone through. All he cared about was getting away. Being on his own and away from their Father's strict rules and orders.

Sam had been expecting either Dean or John to find him at some point and when John did locate him he had also been expecting the righteous wrath of John Winchester but had only gotten one stern if loud lecture and a single slap to the face despite the fury he saw in the older man's eyes. That had actually hurt more than the beating he'd expected since Sam wondered if his father had even cared or just dragged him back out of principle's sake.

It was Dean's reaction that actually hurt him more though. He'd honestly been expecting Dean to be with John when he arrived but his Father had been alone and he had started to worry. Dean would be angry, Sam knew that but Sam hadn't expected the silent treatment or the way his brother had avoided him fully for days afterwards. Going so far as to even sleep on the couch rather than share a room like they always had…hell, he wouldn't allow physical contact for almost two weeks and Sam knew that this was worse punishment than the one his father had given him…when Dean was out of the motel room.

It wasn't until Sam had been in the Cage with Lucifer and Michael that an enraged Michael had thrown it in Sam's face that Dean hadn't been angry with Sam. Oh, he had been rightfully, but his treatment of Sam after his return had been more to protect Sam than in anger and that knowledge had nearly broke him more than what he suffered in the Cage.

Now though, actually seeing the rage on John Winchester's face after he had thrown his son through a door and the amount of blood and bruises already on Dean's battered face told Sam that a lot more had happened than he thought.

Reacting on instinct, Sam tried to grab for his father's shoulder but his hand only passed straight through; helpless to do anything but watch when John reached down to drag his eldest up from the floor and slammed him into the nearest wall.

"Useless failure!" he yelled, drawing a fist back to strike it hard into Dean's midsection and doubling the young man up or it would have if John's other hand hadn't been gripping his neck. "I told you to watch out for your brother! How could you just let him leave? How stupid were you that he just slipped out on you?" he demanded, striking again. "I taught you better than that, boy!"

"Dad, stop," Sam whispered at almost the Sam time that Dean tried to beg the same thing but John was too far into his fury and the next several moments of the savage beating were both heart wrenching and painful for Sam to witness. Finally, his older brother was tossed limply on the couch while their father grabbed his jacket and keys.

"I'll go find Sam," he growled, whirling at the door to point a finger back at Dean. "You…you pull yourself together and get this place cleaned up by the time I get back and…" he stopped long enough to make his point known. "I'd better never hear about this from Bobby."

Staying still after the motel room door was slammed shut; Sam took a step closer to the sofa. Silently he wondered if his brother did just as he was ordered or if he at least took the time to check how bad he'd been hurt.

Wiping the tears that he hadn't known was on his face away, he reached a hand out as if to touch his brother's shoulder expecting it, like John earlier, to be untouchable to him. "Why the hell did you let him do that, Dean?" he asked softly, guilt eating away slowly much as it had when Michael had told him of the beating. "Why did you stay?"

Sam wasn't sure what suddenly shocked him more. When his hand actually touched the shoulder of this younger version of his brother or when a set of tired, pained green eyes looked up to meet his.

"I stayed for you, Sammy."

"Oh, shit," Sam breathed, not liking this turn of events after his encounter with Jessica.

Having his former girlfriend turn on him in this place was one thing but…having Dean, even a much younger and clearly not his Dean, turn on him…Sam wasn't certain if he could handle that and wasn't surprised to feel himself start to shake.

Turning away, Sam knew for sure he needed out of this room. With an injured hand, he wasn't certain if he'd still be any match even for a Dean who had just had the hell kicked out of him but he found himself tugged down on the sofa.

"Slow your breathing before you hyperventilate, kid," 'Dean's' voice was strained, clearly in pain but still he seemed to want to help not hurt which made Sam feel worse. "Sam, stop it."

Risking a look, Sam lifted his head to watch his brother. He saw the blood running from his nose and mouth, the already swelling eyes and he could tell by the way he shifted on the sofa to sit up that he had more than a few broken bones.

"God, why didn't you beat the crap outta me?" he demanded, lowering his face into his hands as he recalled the nights he had lain awake after coming back to wait for the yelling or accusations that he knew would come from his brother but nothing ever had. "You didn't deserve this."

"And you did?" 'Dean' snorted, hissing when something pulled but he sat up fully. "I took the beating that you would've gotten as soon as he found you, kid."

Something about being called 'kid' by a younger version of his older brother seemed amusing to Sam and he couldn't stop the small grin from showing. He knew this version of Dean must have seen it when one eyebrow winged up.

"I'm older than you are now," Sam muttered, wanting to do something for the younger man's pain but found himself shoved away. "Dean…I'm sorry. If I had known Dad would be back or that you wouldn't have been the one to find me…"

"I got careless and didn't take into account how desperate you were to get away, Sam. I was supposed to watch out for you and I didn't," 'Dean' went to shrug but thought better of it as he gazed at this young man. "Hell, this isn't even as bad as I thought it would be. Certainly not like the beatings I've had before and after. At least he didn't take it out on you…Sam."

Biting his lip, Sam's eyes dropped to the broken coffee table rather than look at the serious green eyes that he just knew were leveled at him. "Shouldn't you be…trying to kill me or something now?" he asked, slightly surprised that it hadn't happened yet.

"Yeah, maybe later if you don't look at me and tell me the damn truth," even at this age, that hard big brother tone still could make Sam squirm. "Did Dad put his hands on you before he got you back to me?" he demanded.

Eyes locked on the now seeping bandage around his hand, Sam tried to avoid both the eyes and the question until a familiar grip caught his chin and he found himself looking into eyes that still looked like his own big brother's could when Dean was pissed.

"A couple days after," he finally muttered, hearing a sharp breath that he knew had to hurt broken ribs. "You'd gone to pick up dinner or something but all I remember is you leaving and then he lit into me but he never hit anywhere that you'd see or…"

Turning away with a snarl, 'Dean' struggled to his feet. He looked like he was heading for the kitchen when he stopped, turned and faced Sam. "Three things," be began, voice tight but urgent. "The first, you are damn well telling…well, me about this the first chance you get. Second, you need to focus on finding the one memory that we share. The Dean you know should be able to find you there and three, get the hell outta here now, Sammy."

"Dean, what…" not understanding why this was so different, Sam was standing just as the motel room door crashed open and he was suddenly a child again facing his father's furious gaze. "Dad."

Clearly he knew that this was not his father because John Winchester just didn't have the ability to move a hand and send the younger version of his oldest son flying across the motel room image to lay unmoving by the rusty sink. Somehow, this was about as bad because unknown to Dean, he had been on the receiving end of one of John's rages before…the week he turned sixteen.

"You're not playing your part, son," John tsked as he glared at Dean before turning to gaze at Sam. "Guess that's why Daddy always had to clean up your messes, huh?"

"You're not my father and you aren't touching either of us," Sam replied but instinctively stepped back when John moved forward and received a sneer.

"Once a coward, always a coward, Sammy," he mocked, sliding his eyes over to where Dean laid. "Y'know, you ruined his life, don't you?" he asked curiously, kicking a broken chair out of the way as he seemed to stalk the younger Winchester. "From the day you were born, Dean's life was nothing but grief. Took second place to you in blessed Mary's heart, gave up his childhood to protect you from all the evil crap, not to mention all the times he protected you from dear old John here."

Sam's fingers closed on the knife Mary had given him but he'd been out of the game too long and lost his balance when he stumbled over an overturned piece of furniture in the room, losing his balance and the weapon. "Damn it," swearing, he twisted to grab anything that was close when the first fist landed to his jaw.

"It's a wonder Dean stayed as long as he did before he started hating you," John sneered, fist punching violently while his other fist gripped the front of Sam's shirt to keep him still while pinning him to the ground. "You caused him no end of grief and pain. The fights he and your Dad had over you and I don't just mean verbally. Dean took more fists to the face for you than he should've and went to Hell for you too. Always puttin' you first, just like now when he could've had that normal life with the pretty girl and kid, he chose to go back to nursemaidin' you and for what?" John asked, continuing to beat Sam's face and ribs repeatedly.

Struggling to fight back, Sam didn't have the strength as those words hit home. He'd known how much his brother had given up for him. He'd always known that Dean had sacrificed growing up but…Dean had always said he'd…

"You think he'd tell you what a damn burden you were?" John scoffed. "Sammy-boy, Dean's biggest failure was being too weak to tell you what a wimpy pain in the ass you were to him all your damn life. Hell, you seriously think your brother would still want you around if he knew the truth about Lee Stanton? Or everything else that happened in your life that you think you've hidden from him? Boy, you're nothing but a freak and the only thing you can do to help your precious hero is to die. You never should've have come out of that warehouse alive, Sammy and you know it."

Seeing that Sam's eyes that were already wet with hidden tears and glassy from shock were beginning to lose focus, John went in for the kill. "He doesn't love you, Sammy. No one can love someone like you," he taunted, drawing his fist back to strike again when a hand grabbed his fist and jerked.

"Sam, run," 'Dean' ordered tightly, fighting to stay upright against a much more powerful father than he should have faced but stubborn determination made him keep his grip on the opposite fist. "Sammy!"

The sudden break in the violence allowed Sam to catch his breath but the bitter words were still ringing in his ears when something else caught his attention. This vision of Dean at a younger age was trying to help him.

John had jerked his fist free of the younger boy's grasp, whirling to lash out but 'Dean' had moved at the last second to put himself between the irate man and Sam. "Boy, you know you shouldn't be doing this. You were brought here to hurt him, to lay all your rage and grief on him. You shouldn't even be able to fight this."

"Yeah, I know," 'Dean' remarked then smirked. "There was just one thing that whoever's pulling this crap on them didn't take into account. You can't turn us on one another. No matter the age or reality, you can't make us turn on one another for very long and you forgot the number one rule," he growled, jerking something from behind his back and throwing it forward. "You don't ever screw with Dean Winchester's little brother."

The liquid, holy water or something, splashed in John's face and he fell back to the floor, screaming while 'Dean' was quick to hit the floor beside Sam.

"Up you go, Sammy," he urged quickly but not before firmly grasping his face in both hands. "What he said? All lies because I never once regretted or hated anything that I did for you. Then or now," he promised, the emotion clear in his voice. "You talk to my current self and once you get past the whole awkwardness of the chick-flick crap, he'll tell you the same damn thing. I protected you, I gave up what I did because…because I loved you, little brother and nothing will ever stop that. Now get the hell outta here."

Spitting blood from a busted lip and probably loose teeth, Sam allowed himself to be helped up but he paused in taking a step toward the glittering door that had appeared. He realized what was happening. "You're buying me time," he murmured, looking at this younger version of his big brother and understanding. "You were supposed to be the one to hurt me here not him. Now…what's gonna happen to you?"

"Always more concerned with others," 'Dean' chided lightly, looking back as John cursed but was clearly getting back up. "I buy you the time to get clear, to hopefully find your big brother and I make damn sure this son of a bitch never puts his hands on you again," sighing when he recognized the look in this older Sam's eyes. "Sammy, it doesn't matter. I'm here to help you clearly and I've taken worse so get your ass out of Dodge, find that memory and don't listen to any crap or one version of me will kick your tail into next Tuesday."

Accepting his knife back, Sam hesitated at the door. Looking back to lock eyes again with a young man that reminded him of what his brother had once been like before all the darkness entered their lives the past few years. "Be careful, Dean," he urged quietly, not saying the words he would have if he'd been facing his real brother but hoping they were understood.

"Right back atcha, Sammy," 'Dean' gave him the cocky grin that he'd been known for at that age and it only slipped when he was sure the boy was gone. "Fine, he's gone and you can't hurt him. Try your luck with me now that we both know you aren't my father."

"No, because if I was really John Winchester I'd've hunted your freak of a brother down before he hit his teens," John baited, expecting this figment to react with typical Dean Winchester arrogance but the slow smile put him back slightly.

Nodding his acceptance of the words, 'Dean' merely cocked his head, lifted a hand and motioned with his fingers. "Bring it, jackass," he invited, silently hoping that Sammy found his real big brother before he landed himself in a scene that would literally break the boy even while he fought to protect both brothers.

**Another door, another scene:**

Stepping away from the carnage of the wrecked motel room, Sam had to shield his still sore eyes from the bright sun.

Hissing as he touched his face, sure he had some good bruises that Dean wouldn't care for once he found…if he found him, he thought to himself sourly.

"No, I can't go thinking like that. Dean's here somewhere," he muttered, praying that he was right and that his brother hadn't given up looking for him when the house he had appeared at became clear to him and his stomach clenched. "Oh, god, this just can't be good."

It was easy enough to recognize the house that his brother had once shared with Lisa and Ben. What hurt more to see, other than the happy people milling around, was the congratulations sign hanging on the porch with the pink blanket announcing the arrival of a new baby girl.

Pretty positive that he knew how this scene would play out, Sam almost didn't step closer until he caught sight of Ben on the front porch talking with a neighbor and something about the boy's facial expression nudged him forward to hear what was being said.

"I'm really sorry that your Dad couldn't be hear to see the baby, Ben," the man spoke grimly, hand clapped on the boy's shoulder. "He'd have loved her, I'm sure."

"Yeah, Mom and Dean were real excited about the baby and all," Ben muttered, not looking at the man as he walked back inside and Sam, for some reason, followed him.

Sam had never been inside the house so he followed the boy toward the kitchen where Lisa was standing speaking with…his breath caught at the sight of Gwen Campbell. Why would Gwen be here? Why was Dean…unless…

Quickly looking around for something…anything of his brother's, Sam's gut was getting more cold the longer it went and then he heard Gwen speak.

"Samuel wanted to be here, Lisa, but he's still so in shock over what happened that he's barely able to get around," she sounded grim, while running a hand over the golden curls on the infant in Lisa's arms. "He would appreciate you naming her Deanna Mary though…I'm sure Dean would've…"

"We were going to name her Mary after Dean's Mom but after…after it happened well, I remembered that Dean said he'd been named after his grandmother so…" Lisa bit her lip as tears fell on the tiny pink blanket. "I still can't believe it happened. After all he did for him, all that he's given up to just have his own brother turn on him like that…God, I still can't believe Sam killed him."

Sam's breath stopped and his heart became a jackhammer in his chest. No, what he heard…it was just a lie…just another lie to confuse him…it had to be…he'd never…but he had almost killed his brother how many times?

Swallowing bile, Sam leaned against the wall suddenly weak from more than his bleeding hand or the beating he'd taken. Thinking that he'd killed Dean…he couldn't get those words out of his head.

"Samuel believes that it was the demon blood in his system and the aftereffects of whatever happened while he was locked in with Lucifer that made Sam finally turn into what he was always destined to be," Gwen sighed, patting the grieving woman on the arm. ""Dean…well, Dean was just too trusting. Too willing to always believe in his little brother. He was told, no matter how innocent Sam looked that he was evil and he paid the price."

"No, no, NOOO!" Sam couldn't handle this. He took seeing and hearing Jessica, he took watching his brother being beaten by their father and so many other visions that he'd made it through but the very thought that he could turn one day and murder his brother, after all the trust that Dean had given him back was…it was too much.

Managing to get to the backyard before falling to his knees and throwing up whatever left was in his stomach, he fought the urge to just lie down on the grass and die right here. "Dean, where are you?" he asked thinly, knowing that he was losing this battle.

"What's the matter, Sam? You look like you lost your best friend."

"Gwen," Sam gritted, closing his eyes tighter but pushing his exhaustion and fear aside to slowly stand up to look at the dark haired woman. "So, you're not an image. Just something to fan the flames or kill me."

Smiling brightly, Gwen waved a hand. "No, killing you and Dean is Christian's job," she replied cheerfully, leaning her head to one side as if thinking. "If he hasn't killed your brother already, that is. Dean's actually brighter than he was supposed to be. He caught on faster to the plan and the implications than we liked so…we had to change things a bit. Hurting you now is just gravy."

Slumping back against a Maple tree, Sam still couldn't believe any of this. "Why?" he asked, just wanting that one answer. "What the hell did we do? Hurting me hurts Dean so I get this basically but what I don't understand is why. Who are you working for? It was all a set-up from the start, wasn't it? Finding me after Gabriel brought me back, keeping me away from my brother to finally setting me up for that goddamn 'shifter."

"Well, aren't you so full of questions today," she smiled, holding out a sugar cookie to him but chuckled at his narrowed gaze. "Yeah, I guess you've learned your lesson about taking candy from strangers. Why should I tell you anything, Sam?"

"I'm going to die either by Christian's hands or my so-called Grandfather's or someone else's," Sam's voice took on an exasperated tone. "Just tell me the goddamn truth! Tell me why my brother had to die! What did he or I do to people who were supposed to be family?"

Chewing on a cookie, Gwen shook her head. "Nope, sorry, kiddo. That'd be telling and you suffer so much better when you're at a loss besides, I'm just the opening act. You're going to do yourself in…well so to speak."

"What?" Sam blinked when a step on dry leaves made him turn and an actual laugh escaped his lips. "You've gotta be kidding me. You think an image of when Lucifer controlled me is going to hurt me now?"

"No, Sam. I think a vision of yourself after you turned and ripped your brother's heart from his chest will hurt you," Gwen replied easily, pleased to see realization coming into his eyes.

Hating to turn his back to Gwen, Sam slowly did shift so he could still see the woman but also took a good look at this vision.

God, is this what Dean and Bobby saw when he was all pumped up on Ruby's blood? No wonder they were worried. Hell, Sam was worried and he was looking at what was supposed to be himself.

Tall but more muscular than he even remembered being in the days before Lucifer, this version of himself wasn't dressed in the pure white suit of the future that Dean described to him but the jeans and T-shirt still made him wince.

Sam frowned as he looked at himself. Strong, clearly in control of his emotions…if he had any that is because he sure wasn't seeing anything in the hazel eyes that stared back at him. It was the hair that bugged Sam. As much as Dean was always ragging on him to cut his, seeing this pumped up version with it cut short and slicked back made his skin crawl.

"You're not me," he declared firmly, wanting to believe that…needing to believe it but the doubts he'd always had…the doubts from what he'd seen while being held captive were strong.

"Aren't I?" his double seemed to smile and it was cold, like the 'shifter's smile the last time Sam had seen it. "Oh, I am you, Sam. I am you without all the fears, the doubts, or the guilt that make you into an emotional basket case. I'm what you will be without Dean to keep you grounded in reality. I'm what you would've been if he would've stayed rotting in hell like he should've."

Gritting his teeth, he fought the anger that those words created in him when something young Dean had said and he eyed his evil double. "I finally get one aspect of this vision. Dean had to be dead because whoever's doing these things can't control us if it's one on one, like back in the motel. They couldn't get Dean to turn on me and I bet they couldn't get an image of me to turn on him but getting me to turn on myself…"

"Easier since you're your own worst nightmare, Sam," he nodded, looking around the yard. "Dean is dead, by the way. Killed in here just like you would've ended up killing him out there."

"Shut the hell up!" Sam yelled, forgetting his composure or his injuries when he took a step to attack only to find himself knocked back into the tree.

Shaking his head, 'evil Sam' chuckled as he approached while Gwen looked on. "You're nothing without the blood, Sam. You're just as weak and gullible as you were the night you left Stanford. Without Dean, you're nothing and you know it."

Not fighting to free himself, Sam shot a look between himself and Gwen. "Tell me…why."

"Because Mary died," Gwen told him, stepping closer while the evil Sam's smile made his blood go cold.

That made Sam blink, certainly not the answer he was expecting or considering but before he could ask what it meant his dark clone's eyes went black and Sam found himself unable to breathe.

"Do you want to beg like your brother did, sweetie?" Gwen asked him, going on. "Dean begged for Christian not to kill you and then he begged for his own life."

Lungs burnings, white lights in front of his Sam those words caused Sam to fight. He might die, hell he didn't give a damn but he'd be damned if anyone would screw with his brother and he was sure of one thing…Dean would never beg.

Feeling himself about to pass out, Sam heard a gasp and then he heard a sound of a blade ripping into flesh, the pressure on his lungs easing off so that he collapsed against the tree trunk for support. He slowly could see his evil self looking down at the blade that was piercing his chest and the look of shock on Gwen's face.

"Alright, that's enough."

This voice, while it had a familiar tone to it, was strange to Sam as he fought to clear his eyes to see an older woman toss a short blade onto the lawn while aiming a stern finger toward Gwen. "You, young lady, are going to go right back to where you came from and tell my husband that he had one chance to stop this madness before it all comes back to bite him in the ass," she declared in a no nonsense tone of someone used to giving orders to bullheaded people. "Tell Samuel that he's making a huge mistake if he thinks he can hurt Mary's sons and not pay the price."

Gwen looked confused and surprised as she disappeared while the older woman, her hair a dark blond but cut short, turned to smile down at the youngest Winchester.

"Hello, Sam. To say that we need to talk is a bit of an understatement, don't you think?" she knelt down but made no sudden moves as he watched her suspiciously. "I'm Deanna, Sam. Deanna Campbell. I'm your grandmother and we need to talk before I get you to your brother and stop my husband before making deals with angels or demons isn't his only mistake."

**A/N: **_Will Sam and Dean find each other in time? Will Bobby and Rufus find Samuel and his clan of hunters before it's too late? Where in the Sam hill are Castiel and Gabriel? And who's behind all the help the boys have been getting? Stay tuned to find out…I know, I'm evil but I'm updating as fast as I can write._


	8. Chapter 8

**Fears & Dreams**

**Chapter Eight**

**A/N: **_This chapter gets its own little warning label since it might show more violence than previous chapter._

**A/N II: **_I want to thank all the readers who have been so patient with this story. While I try to update as quickly as I can, real life and troublesome plots can push it back. I promise you, our favorite boys will be reuniting soon so the real trouble can start…I am so evil, aren't I?_

**SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN**

**Singer Salvage Yard:**

Watching with interest the ingredients that the joke prone Archangel was throwing in a bowl, Castiel finally noticed the sound that he'd been hearing. "Are you…singing?" he asked blankly.

"Yeah, I would've thought since you've been hanging around a mortal who still uses cassette tapes that you'd actually know what that was," Gabriel replied, considering the herb in his hand to the bowl before tossing the whole handful in. "You seriously need to get that stick outta your ass and learn how to relax, Cas."

Refusing to be baited, Castiel lifted a brow. "Don't you think the song is a bit…inappropriate?"

"Because we're Angels?" Gabriel seemed to find that amusing and his laugh showed in his eyes. "Besides, Charlie Daniels is a God among men, Cas, now hush up while I do this."

Looking on as the spell to locate the Winchester brothers slowly came together, something nagged Cas. "Tell me your plan again."

"My…plan?" the elder Angel frowned, coughing in a way that put every alarm that Castiel had learned on edge. "Yeah, about that plan…"

"You don't have one," Castiel narrowed his gaze, stepping up to the desk. "You sent Bobby and Rufus out to hunt a man who could be dangerous if we don't know his full plan and you said you could find Dean and Sam…do you have a plan for this or do you plan to…wing it?"

Nearly swallowing the tip of his tongue when Castiel made the very plain pun, Gabriel cleared his throat. "I have…a plan," he assured him, going on in a mutter. "It's just not what I told Singer."

"What?" Castiel had finally given up on having patience when he reached over to grab Gabriel by the shirtfront, hauling him closer. "I trusted you to be able to help the Winchesters. Now, you had better come through with that or, as Dean likes to say when pissed, I will Holy Oil your feathered ass back to Heaven the hard way."

Blinking at the sudden unexpected anger in the younger Angel, Gabriel was slow to remove the hands gripping his shirt. "Well, well, it seems like you did pick up a few habits from the boys," he nodded, apparently pleased by this. "Cas, you might be the new Sheriff in Heaven but it's no secret that everyone has their own agenda and I don't just mean Raphael or Balty. You're losing ground and you have no real clue what's happening under your nose," he declared, turning back to the bowl.

"So, you're working your own agenda too?" Castiel sounded disgusted. He had hoped when he learned that Gabriel had saved Sam from the Cage that his brother had turned over a new leaf but he was loosing that hope. "I should've known that you weren't trying to help for…"

A cabinet shook under the sudden flare of anger in the Archangel's light eyes. "I do what I do for the same reason I've always done anything…because it's what I want," he informed seriously then sighed. "Sam and Dean are on every Angel's most wanted list since Dean did Zachariah in and Sammy got Mikey locked in the Cage so did you really think that knowing all this that either the so-called Prophet…Chuck…" Gabriel had to roll his eyes at that one. "…or our Father would leave those two chuckleheads on their own without a back-up Plan B?"

Frowning in a very human way, Castiel considered this. "Who sent you, Gabriel?"

"Are you asking if Dad sent me to bail them out again?" he snorted with a shrug. "Dad, no, but I am doing a favor for someone aside from the fact that no one gets to kill those two but me. Now shut up so this doesn't blow up."

Peering again at the ingredients Castiel frowned yet again. "This spell will find Sam and Dean?" he questioned dubiously, recognizing one or two of the herbs used and not liking how this was looking.

Swearing not-so under his breath about the curiosity of younger siblings, Gabriel made a dismissive motion while sounding oddly at ease. "Oh, hell no," he replied, going on before the other Angel could explode on him again. "I know where they are…this is…Plan C." he admitted.

"You knew…you've known…then what's this Plan C and what are you sending Bobby into?" Castiel demanded, vowing he would hurt someone soon…or let Dean do it because if anything happened to Bobby Singer and Dean survived this, someone would pay. "Gabriel?"

"I didn't send the mortals into anything that they can't handle…besides, all they have to do is play distraction. You go grab the boys, shove their brains…well what brains any Winchester has, back into their bodies and hopefully let Plan C run its course," the former Trickster replied cheerfully, sighing when he saw the dark look focusing on him. "Plan C is simply because Heckle and Jeckle have been been outta their bodies too long so there is no way that Dean can fight when he wakes up. This way, he won't have to."

Shaking his head, Castiel finally realized this was a summoning spell. "Who are you summoning then?" he wanted to know, knowing how his brother thought and could come up with a half a dozen people he could bring forth and most of them wouldn't go over well with either Winchester. "For that matter, where are you going to be if I'm going to find Dean and Sam?"

Lighting a match, Gabriel held it over the bowl. "I'm summoning someone who old man Campbell will never see coming," he replied then grinned as the match dropped with a flash. "As for me, I'm going to go help out Butch and Sundance. Go find the boys."

With a snap of his fingers, he sent Castiel away before zapping himself out of Bobby's house while humming 'On a wing and a prayer'.

**Elsewhere, outside the Campbell Camp:**

"This is not a good thing, right?" Rufus lowered the binoculars after taking a look and definitely not liking what he was seeing. "I thought the Campbells were hunters."

Scowling as he took his own quick glance at the perimeter of the fenced off warehouse area that Dean had once given him the location of. "According to hunter lore, Campbells have been hunters since before the Mayflower so yeah, that's what they're supposed to be," he agreed then shook his head. "But I've never seen a set-up like this before."

The two men had traveled from South Dakota to the Campbell base across the country. Expecting to find a few hunters milling around since Dean had told him that Samuel Campbell had assembled a little strike force, the older hunter wasn't expecting the fenced off area to be heavily guarded with armed guards.

"Damn, we need in there," he growled, taking another look around before a locked off building to the side caught his attention. "Rufus, over there. Of all the buildings in this place, why's that one so important that it would be locked?"

"Shit, that's a solid cinder block building with no windows and a good twenty guards just waiting to shoot us fulla holes," Rufus complained, scrubbing a hand over his beard. "Ain't no way in hell are we getting' in there and even if we did…we'd never get the boys out."

Bobby scoured in the bag he brought with him that he realized someone had been adding stuff to because he sure didn't pack all of this. "You stay out here then because I'm getting in there and finding those boys come hell or high water but I am getting them out."

Looking between his friend and the building, Rufus considered the odds and the length his friend would go to for the Winchesters. "If I get killed I will come back and haunt your ass," he snapped, jerking his shotgun up to pump a round into the chamber. "Fine, lets go."

"Rufus, you don't have to…" Bobby started to say when his friend just cut him off.

"I expect a case of my favorite booze…assuming we live out the week now come on before I change my damn mind," Rufus growled, motioning to the building. "I'll make with the damn distraction, you go play cavalry."

Taking something out of the bag that resembled a strange clock, Bobby scowled at it while cursing joke playing Archangels. "That damn Trickster had better be on our side," he snapped, pulling the string to set off a series of horrid laughter which while annoying as hell also provided a way to make the guards come running. "Lets go!" he hissed, pulling on the other hunter's sleeve.

The two men had already cut the fence so when the guards ran past, they struggled into the camp and headed for the building they'd been watching.

"Y'know," Rufus was leaning over, struggling to breathe after the climb under the fence and the short run. "We are getting way too old for this covert crap, Singer," he complained. "What say, next time we leave the climbing under stuff and running from armed guards to the young pups and we stick to hunting ghouls?"

Seriously eyeing the padlock on the door before taking a lockpick from his pocket, Bobby couldn't agree more but he'd be hell pressed to agree.

Popping the lock a little easily caused him a moment of unease but then his concern for the Winchesters overrode his better judgment, easing the door open while keeping his weapon at the ready.

"Shiit," Rufus breathed upon stepping inside to see that the building was a hell of a lot bigger on the inside than the outside had let on. "We're stepping into some deep shit, Bobby. You sure these two are worth it?"

Jacking the slide of his shotgun, Bobby's face took on that dark grim look it always did when angry and hiding it. "I've been lookin' after those idjits since the first time their Daddy dropped 'em on my door and I swore after both Jim and John died that I'd always be there for them." he told the other man grimly. "I've seen 'em both die at least once. Hell, I watched Sam bury Dean and I've watched both those boys nearly go insane with the loss of the other so yeah. I'd say they're worth it to me, Rufus."

Lips pursed, head nodding, Rufus just shrugged before heading off. "Just thought I'd ask," he had known the answer all along but he had just wanted to hear it said since getting Singer to express anything close to emotion was like pulling teeth normally. Only the Winchester boys could make the grizzled old hunter show an ounce of true feeling.

Taking the cold, empty halls slow and with caution, Bobby was starting to feel like a rat in a maze when they came to a large door that was partly open.

"Trap," Rufus decided.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Bobby growled, pushing the door open an inch more only to feel his blood go to ice. "_Son of a bitch,"_ he snarled, jerking open the door before Rufus could say anything else. "Boys."

Swearing bitterly when Bobby jerked open the door, Rufus was about to put a warning hand out when he noticed what had set his friend off.

The room was large and basically empty except for the two metal racks in the center of it and some cells situated along the outer rim. The cells, he saw, were empty. The racks, however, were not and it was that image that had brought Bobby's temper soaring.

Sam and Dean Winchester had each been strapped to the racks by thick leather straps and chains as if someone really didn't want to risk the chance of escape…if that was even possible.

While both boys seemed physically fine except for some bruises, a closer look showed both hunters that the Winchesters were hurt. Sam's hand seemed to be seeping from a wound and he seemed to be trying to moan but nothing came out past the tube that had been run down his throat.

"Bobby?" Rufus didn't have to look, he could feel the waves of hate and fury radiating off his friend as he looked between two boys that he considered surrogate sons. "What in the goddamn hell are they doing to them?"

The salvage dealer could only shake his head when no words came to mind. He took a step closer to the boys to see that Dean was clearly suffering the worst physically since even at a distance he could see the shoulder wounds but what concerned him more on both was that other wounds had certainly been inflicted. Wounds that Bobby had seen before…on Sam after Dean had pulled the boy out of the 'shifters hands.

"Goddamn it!" now Bobby understood why Dean didn't want the Campbells involved with Sam after they'd gotten him back. The boy had either known or suspected that not all of his brothers' injuries had been caused by that shapeshifting bastard. "Rufus, get Dean loose while I check on Sam. We need to get the hell outta Dodge before it's…"

"Too late," Rufus finished, whirling as the door slammed shut on them and suddenly they weren't alone. "Do hunter's teleport?"

"No, but they do when they make freakin' deals with either demons or Angels," Bobby growled, turning around but not taking a step away from the Winchesters. "So, who'd you make the deal with or what'd you have to do besides sell out your own flesh and blood?"

Samuel Campbell gazed indifferently toward the racks before lifting a cool eye toward the hunters. "I've found the term flesh and blood to be an odd choice of words," he remarked, glancing to where Gwen and several other hunters stood nearby. "While the shapeshifter was in control of Sam's form, he had access to the boy's memories and feelings so I know who you are, Mr. Singer. I know that you've considered these two like your own blood even though they were really nothing more than hassles that…Winchester dumped on you when he wanted them out of his hair," he paused, either not seeing the fury that flashed in Bobby's eyes or not caring. "While to me, they're not my blood."

"They're your daughter's sons, Campbell," Bobby snapped, wanting to resist when two goons disarmed both him and Rufus but knowing for the sake of the boys he needed to be living to help them so he stayed still. "What the hell game are you playing? What did you do to them?"

Taking a small snapshot out of his pocket, Samuel held it out. It was of a young Mary Campbell before her encounter with the Yellow Eyed Demon, before Dean's trip back to the past and before her marriage to John Winchester. "This is my daughter, Singer. This is my Mary," he gazed at the photos for a long time, some emotion simmering behind cold eyes. "My daughter, if none of that crap had happened with the demon, my death, all of it, wouldn't have married a mechanic from the wrong side of the tracks. She wouldn't have had kids…well, not kids that were raised to be proper hunters and she wouldn't have walked away from the life. Now, I can have that back."

With a short nod to one of the men, Samuel continued to walk around the room. Occasionally looking to where his grandsons were bound. "This would have been easier if Dean hadn't figured out the truth but he's actually smarter than I gave him credit for."

"John always said the boys gotta their smarts from their Momma and I sure as hell never disagreed," Bobby's eyes narrowed as a hunter began setting up an IV system of some sort near Sam. "What the hell?"

Hoping to buy some time for some angelic assistance, Rufus drew some attention away from his friend. "You set the kid up for that 'shifter," it wasn't a question. Just a hard statement that he knew was true even before the level gaze was sent his way. "That's why you didn't want Sam to go to his brother because you knew there would be no way in hell Dean would allow you to touch his brother."

"Sam has always been a second thought in this deal," Samuel replied, explaining easily. "Oh, people want him dead. They want him to suffer but for my purposes, Sam's suffering is mainly for Dean's reaction. Crowley told me how close they were. The things they've done for one another. I personally saw the emotional wreck that Sam was without his brother so it's easy to see that to hurt Sam will hurt Dean and vice versa."

"They're your damn grandsons, you sadistic bastard!" Bobby yelled, seeing Sam tense unconsciously as whatever was in the IV began to drip into his arm. "What the hell did you jus shoot him up with?"

Samuel had walked closer now, a curved handled knife in his fist as he casually strolled around the boys. He paused near Dean and his eyes seemed to grow darker before answering. "A slow acting poison that I found in the Orient on a hunt shortly after Mary was born," he seemed to be checking the straps on the elder Winchester's wrists while he explained its effects. "It basically slows down the heartbeat and breathing, paralyzes the victim from moving but not feeling pain or other physical emotions. It works well with the drug my little friends whipped up using the blood of a Djinn. That goes into his cerebal cortex to allow controlling his dreams and thoughts easier and the tube down his throat offers enough nutrients to keep him alive but nothing more."

He seemed to be fixated on Dean's face as it tensed, the familiar tick of a jaw muscle that only Bobby understood the meaning of but soon he returned his attention to Bobby and Rufus, seeing the disgust. "Sam will be kept alive for as long as we can manage it. He will relive his best moments and then they will be stripped bare until he finally sees his brother slaughtered in so many ways that he will beg to die…just like he did before in Lawrence."

"Damn, this is one sick puppy," Rufus whispered out of the side of his mouth, grunting when a rifle butt connected violently with his midsection.

"You'd do this to your own daughter's son?" Bobby demanded, silently swearing to fry wings if something didn't happen soon. "She gave her life for that boy and you're willing to make him suffer like some…rat in a lab?"

"Sam's suffering because of that and because I want Dean to watch his brother scream. I want the boy to see his little brother reduced to nothing before he dies!" Samuel's rage showed now in his shout, ignoring Gwen's words of caution. "Mary died because of him and now I can get her back!"

Not able to resist the look of shock that he was certain came over his face, Bobby ignored the guns around him to take a step toward the senior Campbell. "Your daughter died because a demon that was inside you forced her to make a deal to save the man she loved, you damn fool!" he retorted, waving a hand. "Those boys ain't got nothin' to do with that!"

"They're John Winchester's sons and anything of his needs to be burned from existence!" Samuel shot back, looking like he was going to use the blade of the knife on Dean's throat but held back. "If he hadn't come back from whatever time he was from, if he hadn't gotten involved, Mary wouldn't have come into contact with that demon and Winchester would've died like he should've have."

Those words stopped Bobby's swearing and as they sank in, he immediately understood that his boys had been screwed with even before they'd been born. "Damn," he breathed. "You sold yourself long before Crowley put you back up top to act as his errand boy. You sell just your soul or your entire family's?"

Glaring, Samuel swung and struck Bobby with a backhand that actually moved him. "I loved my daughter and I wasn't about to see her throw away a family tradition by running away with that freak," he snarled, thrusting a hand back to the Winchesters. "They're all that's left and once I've made certain that Dean dies and I see him burn in Hell for what he caused to my family then his little brother will suffer for as long as I can milk it and then the damn demons and Angels can fight it out for the damn carcass but I'll have Mary!"

"You think she'll like what you're doing to her sons?" Rufus asked, silently promising himself to never call Bobby Singer again…if he got out of this alive that is.

"She can be brought back without knowing about them. Without knowing about John. Without any of her memories except what's best for her," the bald older hunter seemed confident with this plan. "He's promised that she'll be my Mary and nothing of the past will remain except what I want."

Gaping, Bobby was torn between wanting to rip the man's delusional head off his shoulders and fighting to get through the goons to Sam and Dean. "You stupid jackass! You think Crowley will really give you that without a catch?" he demanded, rolling his eyes. "He's not the former King of the Crossroad demons for nothing! He lies!"

"I know, that's why I made this deal with someone who wants my eldest grandson dead as much as I do," Samuel replied calmly, looking past the two hunters as a sound that Bobby has gotten used to appeared and he just prayed he didn't see what he feared he would when he turned. "Apparently, Dean has a good ability to get on people's bad sides and this time he'll pay for it with Sam's sanity as well as his own life.

"Bobby, this ain't a good guy I'm guessin'?" Rufus asked upon seeing the rather tall, crisply dressed black man who had appeared in the room.

Going through a list of possible suspects, Bobby landed on a name to fit the description. "I'm really hatin' Angels more than Demons these days," he growled.

Raphael, the Angel who was currently vying for control of Heaven with Castiel, eyed the mortals with a critical eye before looking at the Winchesters. "You kill the oldest, you can do what you will with the former Boy King of Hell and I'll give you your child back as promised, Samuel," he replied, voice tinged with an accent of some kind. "However, first, we must take care of any potential distractions in the master plan," he explained, eyeing Bobby. "You, are a wild card that I wasn't expecting, so you must be dealt with before Castiel can track you here and free the mortals."

"Shit! Bobby!" Rufus saw the Archangel's hand start to glow which he just knew was a bad thing even before Bobby grabbed his chest, falling to the floor as a shot of bright Angel light shot forward toward him. "Bobby!"

**A/N: **_Sorry for the delay. Will Sam and Dean find each other only to die in the real world for something that neither could control? Will Sam survive period? Check out Chapter 9 when our boys find each other only to possibly lose it all._

_Chapter 10 brings will bring us to just what happens to Bobby and Rufus in that flash of light. Will Samuel win? Will he get his long sought revenge or will someone from his past stop him? All that and just where are those pesky Angels?_


	9. Chapter 9

**Fears & Dreams**

**Chapter Nine**

**A/N: **_This chapter gets its own little warning label since it might show more violence than previous chapter._

As the bright white flash of light slowly dimmed, the hunters in the room who had been shielded from the bright burning power of the Archangel Raphael and expected to find two smoking corpses but instead found…

"Okay, why the hell ain't we burnt to cinders?" Rufus Turner demanded, staring at his body as if making certain it was all in one piece. "That should've…"

Bobby Singer waved a hand to shut the stunned man up, not sure why the clearly enraged Archangel's power hadn't smoked them and it was also pretty clear that the aforementioned Archangel also didn't understand.

"This isn't possible!" he snarled, glaring daggers at the men as if daring them to have the ability to withstand his powers. "How did you…"

"Ralphy, didn't you take the time to read dear old Dad's house rule list before trying to take over Heaven?" a voice asked, the laugh obvious in it. "Rule one million, seven hundred thousand and something…none of the Garrison can make deals for souls, take over Heaven, start the Apocalypse or kill any of the Winchester allies…oh, and you can't throw any parties either. I think you've broken every rule on that list, don't you?"

Raphael slowly turned, his face impassive but the rage clear by his voice. "Gabriel."

"You know, if I go by how everyone says my name I'd get the feeling that none of my family is really glad to see that I'm still breathing," the former Trickster suddenly appeared between Raphael and the two hunters he actually cared about, snapping a finger at two other hunters. "Sorry, the big boys need to talk. You kids take a nap."

When most of Samuel Campbell's men dropped to the floor in unconscious heaps, all but Samuel and Gwen, the older hunter snapped eyes to Raphael. "I thought you said no other Angel could interfere!"

"Plain Jane Angels, low order Cherubs, etc can't enter your playground, Chuckles," Gabriel's amused expression seemed to hardened when he took in the state of his two favorite playmates, eyes going darker as they lifted to meet Samuel's and then shot Raphael a smirk. "You didn't tell your new BFF that other Archangels can play in your sandbox? I'm hurt."

"You will be if you don't leave what doesn't concern you, Gabriel," Raphael warned, standing tall as if to intimidate the humor loving Angel before sending a warning shot of blue lightning out to strike then had to fight not to gape when it was stopped in midair.

Lowering his hand, Gabriel just smiled with his head cocked to one side. A habit he'd grown fond of using. "You seriously think that's going to scare me?" he scoffing with an eye roll. "I've faced down Pagan Gods who really wanted to rip me a new one and I stared Lucifer in the face without blinking so a little Archangel lightning isn't going to phase me, Ralphy."

Always a humorous and fun loving Angel, always willing to give a braggart his just desserts so to speak, now the tone of voice changed to one that he hadn't thought of using in a couple hundred millennia. One of serious anger. "You keep forgetting, you might've had Dad's ear and you might've been Mikey's right hand goon but aside from Luci there was always one Archangel who had more power than you and I still am," a shift of his hand actually pushed the suit wearing Archangel back several steps. "Now, you want to kill Butch and Sundance here, go through me."

"You can't help the Winchesters if you're protecting them, Gabriel," Raphael warned with a small smile. "They can meet their ends in other ways than the mere physical."

"Yep, and I guess we'll see about that," Gabriel shot back, throwing a hand out while uttering a spell in Enochian that he knew would keep the now pissed off Archangel busy while he hoped to deal with the mortal element. "I'll deal with him, you two handle the hunters and keep that old guy away from the boys," he told Bobby and Rufus swiftly. "You need to break them loose and get the crap outta Sam because if it weakens him too much, he's gone and nothing can bring the kid back."

Growling about useless featherbrains, Bobby caught a shotgun that appeared by him. "Where in the hell is Castiel?" he demanded, wincing as Gabriel was tossed against a far wall.

"Hopefully, playing cavalry," Gabriel replied before turning his full attention on the enforcers brought in while hoping that Bobby could deal with Samuel before Plan C needed to show up.

**Elsewhere, in a dream realm:**

Dean Winchester had tensed upon seeing the younger image of his father but his brain was still focused on the battered, shaking for of his sixteen-year-old brother huddled in the filthy motel room bathroom while a friend of John Winchester's was passed out drunk in the other room.

"What memories of my Dad do you have?" he gritted out, finally meeting the younger eyes and seeing the anguish reflected. "I swear, if you knew what Stanton did to Sam and you did nothing I'll find a way to bring you back long enough to beat the hell outta you!"

"Dean, we need to talk and there's not much time left," John tried to interject but the older boy was still focused to pay any heed so he sighed. "I didn't learn what Lee had done to your brother until about two years after Sam had left for college."

"Huh, and by then you couldn't have cared less," Dean grumbled under his breath, drawing in a sharp breath when the hand that grabbed him latched onto his injured shoulder when it jerked him around.

Young John Winchester, as Dean recalled from his and Sam's second trip back to the past, had a lot of their father's characteristics…including his temper. "I admit Dean that I wasn't Father of the Year and I screwed up a lot with both you boys. But don't you ever say to me that I didn't give a damn when I found out that a man I served with in 'Nam, a man I thought was a friend, had taken my sixteen-year-old son out to a damn bar, got him drunk before he drugged and assaulted him two doors away from our own motel room," he snapped, seeing the pained expression in the other set of eyes and letting go. "Lee paid, Dean. Not like your brother did and probably still pays but I did make him pay."

Something in the tone made Dean turn his full attention to this image. "Alright, I've already had Mom try to kill me in this whacked out place, so what's your angle?" he asked straight out, something feeling different. "I accept that I've failed Sammy and I know that there's probably a lot he's buried that I won't like…especially if I ever learn that you turned all that rage on him instead of me so tell me 'Dad' when's the shoe going to drop?"

"God, you have got so much of Mary in you at times that it's scary," John shook his head, kneeling beside the huddled boy in the corner and shocking Dean when he stroked a hand down through hair still dripping from the shower he'd tried to take. "Sleep, Sam. This image isn't where you need to be. It's done and over with. I'm only sorry that I didn't see the signs before you'd run to find Dean…"

"And you tried to beat the shit outta him when you caught up to him," Dean finished darkly, leaning against the sink with his arms crossed in a familiar stance. "One of the few times that I saw Pastor Jim draw a gun on you."

John looked back with a smirk that mirrored his sons'. "Jim pulled so you didn't, Dean," he remarked, seeing the surprise in the opposite green eyes. "I knew you had your hand on your pistol that day, son. Would you have actually pulled it on your Father is the one thing I never had the guts to ever ask you though."

Remembering the day after Sam had showed up, Dean did recall the fury in John's eyes because he hated to be disobeyed and he hated it when Sam disobeyed most of all. He'd had no doubts what would happen if his father had gotten within reaching distance of his still shell-shocked little brother so Dean did know the answer to the unspoken question.

"Yes," he replied simply, meeting and holding young John's eyes. "If you would have gone to touch my brother, I would've shot you. Hell, I would've killed you before I let you touch him…I'd already told you that once."

Nodding, John stood again and the image seemed to flicker. "Dean, you know that physically you and your brother are someplace else, don't you?"

"I don't know what the hell I know." Dean griped, motioning around them. "I remember leaving Sammy with Bobby to go to Indiana. I walk into a bedroom and then poof! I'm watching our house burn again and…y'know, Dad…I seriously hate fire."

More careful this time when he laid a hand on his son's shoulder, this young version of John merely nodded. "You need to settle yourself and focus on Sam because you're both in serious trouble. You especially, however while he just wants you dead they will make Sam hurt and do things to your brother that not even Alistair could dream possible…just to hurt you."

That made Dean tense because he was damned if anyone would touch his brother again after what he'd endured already. "One of the images said this was happening because of what I brought to Mom when I first went back in time," he remembered with a frown, seeing the flash in young John's eyes. "What? You know who's behind this, don't you? You know who's trying to hurt Sam?"

"You need to go, Dean," John replied firmly, laying both hands on shoulders that already too much weight on them. "You need to get to Sam before he does because you need to get both you and your brother awake. Sam's mind is being trapped while his body is being poisoned. It'll be a slow torture for him on top of what they made him endure the last year."

"What're you talkin' about?" Dean winced as his shoulder pulled, knowing his own well being was going to affect how much he could handle. "Being held like an animal for a year by a damn shapeshifter? There something more that Sammy didn't bother to tell me about?"

John seemed to want to avoid that but if his eldest was one thing it was bullheaded, which he blamed Mary for so when a shaking hand snagged his battered leather jacket it was with some reluctance that he turned to face the boy. "Your brother wasn't just tortured and abused by the 'shifter, Dean," he told him grimly. "That damn thing had help of the human kind in what he did to Sam."

"Ain't possible," the young hunter argued, feeling something pulling on him but not able to place it. "After Sam was pulled from the Cage he was with Mom's…family," that word stuck in Dean's throat a little but suddenly the word became a sick piece of filth lodged in his gut when things began to glue themselves together in ways he sure as hell didn't like.

Sam had told him that he wasn't sure how the Campbells had found him. He just remembered passing out after running from Lisa's house one night to waking up with strangers…strangers who put up a fight when he had started to finally want his big brother. People who had always given Dean a bad vibe from the first goddamn day he'd met them…people who had sent Sam to Lawrence on a simple salt and burn the night he'd been attacked by the…

"_Sonuvabitch_," he gritted through clenched teeth, green eyes turning to green fire when they landed on young John's grim features. "Mom's family? They set Sammy up? They've been playing us from the start?"

"I'm sorry, Dean. I knew Samuel…Mary's family didn't approve of me but I didn't think they'd take it out on our boys," John replied grimly, knowing the moment his eldest got the full picture because he'd watched Dean grow up and while normally the boy could keep every emotion locked behind a wall when it came to Sam his son's wall crashed. "Dean…"

A hard scowl formed on a rugged face that only moments earlier showed signs of his own injuries. Now, that same face was set with a look that, even in this young form, John Winchester had seen only once and that was when Sam had been a child and threatened at school and Dean had risked both expulsion and John's wrath by defending his little brother.

This time though it wouldn't be a school bully that feels his wrath and John just hoped his sons would be strong enough to survive. "Find Sam, Dean. You're his only chance," he urged, adding. "Just remember what I taught you."

"Half of what you taught me is what got me and Sammy into this mess, Dad," Dean threw back, listening suddenly as if hearing something. "I remember one thing and one thing only. No one screws with my baby brother unless they want me to feed 'em their damn lungs," he repeated the saying he'd made up as a kid when again he shifted to listen. "Sammy?"

"Go, Dean," John urged quickly, knowing he should warn his son that it could already be too late but refusing to do that until all avenues of help had been extinguished and there were still cards on the table.

Surprised that he didn't have more to say to his Father, Dean's thought were now locked on finding his little brother and getting them both out of this hell alive so that he could feed the first Campbell he came across their lungs…or heart or any other piece he could rip off. 'Cas, where they hell are you?' he suddenly asked bitterly, wondering why there was never an Angel around when he wanted one as he practically ran through the glittering door that appeared and into nothing but light…

**Somewhere with Sam:**

Hazel eyes were flitting between the general area of the yard he still found himself in and the vision of a grandmother he had never known, Sam finally settled on Deanna Campbell while he fell back against the tree. "I…I don' understand what's happenin'," he complained, frowning as his words seemed slurred and he was forced to blink to clear his vision. "Huh, hand must've gotten infected," he mused, suddenly so tired.

Deanna's lips thinned, gently lifting the boy's face up to see his eyes before examining the knife wound in his hand. The wound seemed feverish but she had a bad hunch that it wasn't the cut making Sam have these symptoms.

"Drink this," she handed him a small silver flask after uncapping it.

"This ain't real so how can I drink?" Sam countered, only half concerned that his thoughts wouldn't focus anymore but he did take the flask but sniffed it first. "Holy water?" that for some reason amused him and he missed the older woman's small frown.

"Not exactly," she admitted, easing the flask up when his hands seemed to shake. "Just drink it all, Sam. It'll…help."

Doing as she suggested, Sam closed his eyes after he handed the flask back. "I saw my Mom," he suddenly stated, surprised by the burning tears in his eyes. "I know she wasn't real, just like I know you aren't or the younger vision of my brother but they got me here…got me here to find out that I killed my brother and that Dean's dead in this place. I don't even understand why or what we did to piss off Mom's family…"

"Sam," swiping sweat soaked hair back from his face, Deanna's heart could have broke for the pain this child was in and the pain that was to come. "You need to listen to me and then you need to go to your brother."

"Dean's dead, that's what Gwen said," Sam argued, a part of him knowing the sudden spinning, the chills, and the building pain weren't normal but his tired, mentally beaten down brain could only fixate on one thing. His brother, the only thing that made him want to live, the one thing that deep down had made him fight to survive that nightmare of the past year, was dead and he hadn't even been with him. "I…I want to die cause I can't do this without him…not again…I can't fight the nightmares or whoever the hell wants us dead by myself but somehow I don't think it'll be that easy."

As she let the boy ramble, all Deanna could think was how much he was like Mary when she'd been feverish and sick. Her little girl could ramble on for hours on end when sick and that's what Sam seemed to be doing…only she knew he wasn't sick. She knew what was wrong with Sam and once again she could have throttled Samuel for his selfish plans.

"Sam, Dean isn't dead and I'm going to help you find him," she promised in the same soothing tone she had used on her own daughter. "But first, you have to understand that what's happening to you both isn't anyone's fault but the delusions of a tired selfish old man who never could handle hearing the word 'no' when it came to his little world," she told him, explaining at his blank look. "Mary loved John and would've left us sooner or later. Samuel couldn't take the thought of his little girl leaving, so he did something that would've backfired on him anyway because if that demon had taken John's life, Mary would've done anything to get him back. Just like she did, so it's not your or your brother's fault that Mary was killed. My husband still doesn't understand that."

"De'n always said…not to trust anyone but…I…I was so…" Sam groaned as his stomach twisted and a spurt of fear began to build. He knew these signs but couldn't understand why he'd have them again. "I wanted my brother to have…normal…so I wanted to trust and…he…they…God…"

"I know, sweetie," Deanna soothed, gently stroking a hand over the younger Winchester's face before attempting to get him up. "Sam, Dean is your only hope. I want you to follow that light and go find your brother. Call him and he'll hear you now. He's close enough to the truth to be able to lock onto you."

Sam's eyes seemed to want to keep rolling back but he fought that when she pushed the idea that Dean could still be looking for him into his barely coherent thoughts. "De'n?" he whispered, not aware that he was shortening his brother's name again when something else nagged him. "He'll be mad…at me," he nearly whined, voice dropping to a way that Deanna knew was dangerous. "He left me…Dad's jacket, the leather one, and I…lost…it so…"

"Damn you, Samuel," Deanna cursed her husband under her breath before firmly cupping her youngest grandson's face in both hands. "Sam, you didn't lose that jacket. It's still in the house where you were taken from. Dean will not be angry with you but you need to go now. Follow the light, find that one memory, call for him, and fight," she urged him in a firm but soft tone. "No matter what happens, or what you're told, or what they make you believe or feel, you fight for yourself and your big brother because that's the only way that Dean will survive. Now go."

Giving a gentle push, she watched him stagger a moment like a child just learning to walk before he got his full balance and found the light. Deanna waited a long moment after the boy was gone to wipe the unshed tears to turn to face her own grown up child. "Hello, Mary."

"You know that I won't let him touch my sons," Mary Winchester declared firmly, seeming to feel the danger. "I didn't want them raised like I was but I will be damned if my own father will betray my sons. If he will hurt my boys anymore than they have been."

"I know," Deanna smiled, knowing that husband and daughter had often clashed but as a mother she was aware of what she had done to protect her daughter. She wouldn't expect less of Mary as she sought to protect her sons. "It might be too late, Mary. Samuel's gone too far."

Nodding, her white gown seemed to shift into more familiar clothes. "Too late to help them in here maybe," Mary agreed softly, silently praying to those outside to help her boys. "It might not be too late for others but either way…he won't have my boys and he will never to do Sam what he did before," she vowed, feeling the chill come over her and wanting to weep. "Sammy."

**A Field, at the same time:**

Sam was feeling so bad when he practically fell out of the light he'd been following that he instantly dropped to his knees, with his stomach heaving.

It was several minutes of nothing but dry heaves before he could lift his head much less see things straight to get an idea on where he was. When he could, he saw a dark field lit only with a full moon and bright colored lights going off all around him.

"No," he whispered, slowly recognizing this place even as his hand touched something cool while trying to pull himself upright and for a brief moment he actually felt safe for the first time since this mess started.

Using the side of the Impala to help pull himself up, Sam strained to stop the world from spinning as he looked around the field. It was the one the year he'd been thirteen that he and Dean had set on fire with fireworks that fourth of July. That night had been one of the greatest in his life and it was also the one memory that both he and his older brother shared…this was it. The one memory that he'd been told to search for because this is the one moment that meant a lot to both Winchesters.

Sam, despite the pain and the chills, could recall that summer like it was yesterday. John had been gone for nearly a month. Dean had taken a job just to keep them in the motel and so Sam would have food to eat. He had known that his brother had a hot date lined up for the holiday and at thirteen might've been a little whiny but he'd been hot and bored. So when Dean had taken all of the whining that even his awesome big brother nerves could take and stormed out, Sam had settled in with a ragged book that he'd already read twenty times.

He's been surprised to hear the roar of the Impala a couple hours later since he hadn't been expecting his brother back until late…even though as Sam recalled now, Dean had never stayed out all night when Sam had been young.

" 'Sammy, getta move on it!'" Dean had yelled from the driver's side when Sam had come out of the motel room to see why he was back. " 'We're losing the night and trust me, this'll be better with full darkness.'"

Not sure what his brother was planning, Sam had been surprised when they'd driven out to the field and he'd been even more surprised to see the box of fireworks that his brother removed from the trunk. He'd known that their extra cash had been earmarked for Dean's date, he'd been hesitant to ask but his brother must have seen the question shining in his little brother's eyes.

" 'Change of plans,'" he shrugged as if ditching the hottest girl in town was normal for seventeen year old Dean Winchester. " 'Besides, why waste good cash on a girl I'll probably never see again when I could blow it on a stash of fireworks that you'll probably catch yourself on fire with?'"

Sam remembered that Dean had lit the fireworks and he could also remember his brother's smile as each one was lit until finally they just lit the whole box and watched the show. "Dean," he whispered, remembering clearly hugging his older, too cool, brother that night and being hugged back without any of the usual crap.

Suddenly nauseous, Sam had to grab hold of the Impala for support or faceplant onto the ground when it suddenly dawned on him that the car felt real under his hands. Why would the Impala be here when no one else appeared to be in the area, which he was grateful for since he didn't think he could handle anymore bitter images or things trying to kill him just yet.

His blurry eyes focused in the backseat to see the little Army man he'd stuck in that door's ashtray and the initials that were scrawled in the leather. A sad smile formed. This was home. This car and Dean had been his home because where one was, the other usually was as well.

He could only think of a few times when his brother hadn't been there for him when he'd been scared, sick, or needed him…of course most of those times Sam would rather forget about but… "Dean!" he called out, feeling weak suddenly as cramps struck his stomach and he doubled up, falling to the ground just like he had in… "Oh, God, no," he moaned.

"Dean's not coming to save you this time, Sam," Christian's voice spoke from the cold darkness. "Gwen told you, he's dead and he won't be coming back this time."

Blocking out the mental images that the pain was bringing back, Sam struggled to see where the young Campbell was standing a few feet from him. "You…you…did this?"

"You do recognize the feelings, don't you, Sam?" Christian asked, walking over to kneel down beside his now nearly incapacitated cousin. "The chills, the pain, the inability to think clearly or move? The same symptoms like you had in that graveyard when you were attacked. The same symptoms like you had when we chained you to that bed in the warehouse in Lawrence before Samuel let the 'shifter take your form and memories."

Struggling against the panic that was building, Sam fought to move, to fight but fell back. Too weak to sit up on his own, much less fight back against Christian. "Where?" he mumbled, even his tongue felt too heavy and he knew what was happening.

"You and your brother's corpse are in Samuel's compound where you're going to stay a very long time while Samuel gets his pound of flesh outta you and your mind is going to go back to the nice little place it was for a year," Christian explained simply, tapping the knife he'd taken from Sam on the other hunter's chest. "Y'see, Samuel wants you to suffer as much as Dean did and your brother did suffer. Oh, he begged and he screamed but he did his best when he realized the plans for you but this time he can't save you, Sammy."

Refusing to believe that, Sam managed to lift his head enough to stare at Christian. "De'n wouldn't beg you, you son of a bitch," he got out, then spit in the face of his cousin. "I…won' beg this time so…go to…hell."

"You'll beg, Sammy," Christian promised coldly, punching Sam in the face suddenly and smiled at the feel of blood against his knuckles. "Samuel has ways to make you scream and until he gets his Mary back, he'll take all that rage out on you and the old man, of course."

Sam blinked at that before realizing he must mean Bobby and something snapped. The fear of losing Dean, the terror of enduring what he had again were one thing but the thought of Bobby being hurt by these assholes ripped into his heart and he tried to lunge. One fist did graze the side of Christian's head but a quick blow to his already reeling face knocked Sam back.

"That was a mistake, cousin," Christian growled, pinning the younger Winchester on his back with a knee to his chest while placing the knife to his throat. "I can kill you and Samuel's buddies will bring you back," he bragged, punching the now limp hunter several more times in the face and head before giving several hard kicks to his midsection. "No big brother, Sam. You're hooked up like a vegetable with tubes and wires keeping you alive and there isn't a damn thing that Dean or any of the little miracles you've pulled off so far can do to stop us," he promised, hate filling his eyes. "Campbells look after their own and you and Dean are more Winchester than Campbell. Now be a good boy and don't fight. This'll only hurt more if you do…"

Sam choked on the blood from being punched so many times but despite being drugged like he knew he was, he couldn't help but tense and try to fight back when he saw the needle that he knew contained the same drug that would allow them full access to his thoughts.

"Nooo," he tried to buck the weight off but Christian held him down harder while raising the needle about Sam's heart.

"Think happy thoughts, Sam because they'll be your last ones once this takes effect," Christian taunted, the needle pressed to Sam's chest with his thumb on the plunger. "Maybe you'll even have a couple happy dreams, before we rip them apart for you."

The needle began to depress into the muscle over Sam's heart while the helpless young hunter could only scream inside as nothing would come out vocally anymore when something suddenly broke through Sam's terror and the taunting voice of his cousin…a sound that Sam would know anywhere…

"_Hey!"_

**A/N: ***_**Whistles innocently**__* Do I really need to say anything? I'll be ducking now and updating... promise!_


	10. Chapter 10

**Fears & Dreams**

**Chapter Ten**

**A/N: **_This chapter gets another warning label since it might show more violence, yes that is possible, so just beware. Also, I want to thank everyone who has read this so far and left such kind words. I do read every review as it comes in and I will catch up on the replies._

**SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN**

"Hey!"

Christian Campbell had been so engrossed in plunging the hypodermic needle into Sam Winchester's chest that he hadn't been aware of when they suddenly weren't alone. At least not until the dark, harsh voice snapped from behind him and he whirled to find himself staring into the murderous green eyes of…

"Get the hell away from my brother, asshole."

Dean had arrived on the scene just in time to see his little brother go down the final time and to see the needle that Christian was about to plunge into his chest. Swearing at his lack of a weapon, he was more than a little surprised when his hand automatically reached for his normal .45 Colt to actually feel it tucked in his belt at the small of his back.

Taking enough time to notice with a glance how bad Sam looked, he didn't waste any further time to talk. Pulling the Colt, he fired as soon as Christian began to turn and was moving toward the pair even before the bullet struck.

Kicking both the dropped needle and the discarded blade further away, he aimed the pistol with a steady hand at his cousin's head while Christian gasped in pain and clutched his bullet ridden shoulder. "You move one damn inch and the next shot goes through your goddamn face," he growled, risking a quick look toward his brother. "You okay, little brother?" he wanted to know, hoping he was still conscious enough to hear him but not liking it when he didn't get a response beyond a gasp. "Sammy? You alright?"

This time when he didn't get a reply, Dean risked taking his eyes off Christian to give his brother a better look and feeling his gut clench. "Damn it!" he snapped, forgetting the other hunter to drop to his knees beside his little brother who whose eyes were still partly open but glassy. "Sam! Sammy, talk to me!" he shouted, being careful of any injuries when he shook the younger man. "Sammy, open your eyes!"

"It's too late, Dean," Christian's voice was strained but it still held a mocking tone as he gripped his shoulder. "Sam thinks your dead and with the drugs Samuel gave him, by now he's probably back in the same mental prison he was in while the 'shifter was in control," he bragged with a smirk. "You fought all this way and you're still too late to save your brother. I mean, his mind will be held and tortured as much as your Grandfather plans on doing to his body and I figure all it'll take is a bullet to your brain to take you out but first he wants you to see exactly what the plans are for your brother."

Pushing up to his good elbow, Christian watched as Dean fought to bring some consciousness back to Sam but to no avail. "You think that hellhole you found him in was bad? That was good compared to what we have planned for your baby brother this time," he remarked, chuckling. "By this time, Gwen or someone will have separated Sam from you. Locked him up in a nice dark hole but don't worry. He won't even know about the darkness or the rats because he's trapped in a hell in his mind, reliving his worst moments and things that he fought to forget all the while screaming for the big brother that couldn't save him."

Gripping his brother's face, Dean felt for a pulse and swore when it barely beat under his fingers. He noticed the difficulty in breathing that Sam was having and the bluish tinge to his lips. However, what worried him most was the little ripples that shook him as his body seemed to be convulsing.

Listening to the mocking words behind him, he closed his eyes tightly. "If he's hurt, if any of you sick bastards have touched my brother, I will kill you," he promised in a very low tone.

"Doubt it, Dean," Christian grinned. "You're mind is stuck in here, your body will die, your pals can't save you and neither can any Angels. While I can get back out and put a bullet in your brain."

Shifting slightly to toss a familiar smirk over his shoulder, Dean shook his head. "I don't think it'll be that easy, asshole," he remarked, feeling the change in the air. "If that ringing in my head and that rustling sound means anything…it means your door's been locked until I say otherwise. You're cutting this a little close, right?"

Christian frowned upon realizing that Dean was indeed correct. He couldn't will his mind back out of this image as he should have been able but he looked to where his cousin's grim eyes were locked and felt sick.

"Locating this location and breaking the wall to gain entrance was not as simple as Gabriel let on that it would be," Castiel explained with more than a little exasperation.

Quickly examining the scene, the Angel immediately didn't like what he found. Choosing to ignore the gaping Christian for the time being, he knelt beside the Winchesters. "Dean…"

"Help him, Cas," Dean's hands shook as he gently massaged his brother's neck in order to try to bring him around or at least to get him to open his eyes. "I can't get him to wake up. His pulse is barely there and something's wrong."

Laying a hand on Sam's forehead, Castiel's already grim features actually became darker. "I can't heal him like this, Dean. You need to get him to wake up in here so that he can wake up physically but…"

"_But_?" Dean repeated warily, not liking that. "I hate it when you say that word, Cas. But what? What the hell did they give Sam and how the hell do I get out there to kill someone?"

"Too late, hero," Christian spat. "Sammy's ours. He's hooked up to enough wires, tubes, and machines to keep him alive for a long time while his drugged out mind makes him relive everything in his life, good or bad while you…you, Dean, are going to watch him beg for you before Samuel lets me gut you. And your Angel buddy here ain't no match for an Archangel like Raphael."

"Y'know, I did tell you to Holy Oil his ass that night so this might be a good time for me to say 'I told you so'," Dean snapped while reaching for his Colt again. "You aren't making it out of here to touch me or my brother."

Christian sneered, finally getting to his feet but not letting go of his bleeding shoulder. "Did Sammy ever tell you what he was made to see before you got too smart for your own good, Dean?" he asked, seeing the anger in the other set of eyes. "Did he tell you that Samuel had the Djinn make him relive every beating your old man gave him? Did he tell you that he saw you having a life without him and that you'd drop him in a heartbeat if you could? Did he ever tell you about what we made him see that never even happened? Or, did he tell you how he got those wounds he had? Not all of 'em were from the 'shifter, y'know," he bragged. "Want me to tell you? Do you want me to tell you what scared him enough that he was finally going to go to you?"

"You son of a bitch," Dean's tone was death to anyone who knew him as he grabbed his cousin by the throat, slamming him against the hard metal of the Impala before punching him repeatedly but it never got the telling smirk off the other man's face. "We had nothing to do with our Mom dying!"

"You brought the demon to her, hero," Christian spit blood, sliding his gaze to where Sam lay prone on the ground with Castiel kneeling beside him. "She died protecting him now Samuel'll get back his daughter and the last remnants of the Winchester line will be gone or useless in Sammy's case…Ugh!"

A hard punch to the face sent him reeling back against the car when the cold barrel of Dean's Colt was shoved under his chin.

"It's Sam, to you," he whispered tightly, green eyes cold as he stared at this young man who he could have been so much like if John hadn't kept them apart from Mary's family. "You really think you could use him, hurt him to make me pay?" he gritted, tightening his grip. "You like to brag about what you bastards did to my baby brother? To me? You'd brag _to me _about hurting him? About treating him like an animal all because that deranged sonuvabitch who was my Mother's Father has some issues?"

Pulling back the hammer of the Colt, Dean's eyes didn't move as he called over to Castiel. "Cas, this a fake memory like the Djinn or something else?"

"This is a side astral projection in a hidden pocket of either your or Sam's mind, Dean," the Angel replied, hearing the not so patient sigh and sought an easier explanation. "It's not a memory like a normal Djinn attack. If you get hurt in this reality, as you have, your physical body will show the wound as well. I was able to finally lock on because of the link we still have."

"So, if a body suddenly had a .45 caliber round shot through his brain that same body would buy it out in the real world, right?" Dean asked casually but there was no mistaking the tone or the glint in his eyes.

Pausing as if in consideration, Castiel slowly nodded. "Yes, that's essentially what would happen," he agreed, turning to gaze at the hunter. "We're running out of time, Dean. You need to act if you want to save Sam…not to mention Bobby."

"Bobby?" Dean swore under his breath before slapping the butt of the Colt against his cousin's skull but held him against the car. "You thought that you could turn us against one another here and you still think that I'll leave Sammy unprotected but you didn't take into count two things, asshole," he growled, jerking Christian up to ram a knee into his stomach and allowing him to fall on the ground, pained eyes now staring up at the leveled weapon. "#2, better people than you have tried to turn me and Sam on one another and #1, you don't ever screw with my baby brother and live."

The Colt that had once been John Winchester's fired only once then Dean slowly allowed it to drop to his side, grim eyes intent on the now still body while his mind replayed all that had been said and what had been implied.

"Dean, Christian's death will have an echo effect so you must hurry," Castiel spoke quickly but the elder Winchester was already beside his brother. "The drugs haven't taken him under fully yet but they've weakened him."

"Yeah, figured that out already thanks," Dean muttered, surprised at how easy it was to physically move his little brother so that he'd be leaning against the Impala. "Sammy? C'mon, baby brother, I need you to wake up for me so that I can get you out of here."

Castiel's lips thinned but he refrained from mentioning the truth to his friend that while he may salvage his brother's mind in this place, the physical aspect might be entirely different.

However Dean must have seen the look anyway. "I'm not losing him, Cas," he vowed firmly, pressing his hands to Sam's face as he hand once when they'd been kids and his brother was sick. "Sammy, it's Dean. I really need you to wake up for me now. Please, kiddo, wake up," he whispered, sitting back against the car to pull his younger brother against him as he fought the sudden burning in his eyes as Sam remained unresponsive. "It's okay, Sam. I'm here and I'll always be here with you."

"Dean…" Castiel began but halted upon seeing weak fingers suddenly jerk as Sam strained to breathe, open his eyes and see his brother all at the same time.

"Hey, kiddo, you back with me now?" Dean knew this was momentary at best because his brother's pupils were shot to hell but at least he wasn't fighting him. "Sammy?"

In too much agony to try to move much, Sam finally gave up that attempt when he became aware that it was just his brother's arm he felt supporting him. "De?" voice a whispered catch, he fought panic but still when familiar fingers carded through his hair. "You…you?"

"Funny, I was considering askin' you that, Geek-boy," Dean chuckled, needing to keep his voice light so the boy didn't panic. "It's gonna be fine, Sammy. I'm getting' us out of here and you're going to be fine," he promised, throwing the Angel a hard look that warned him to keep his mouth shut. "Sam, you know that whatever you saw or heard in here were lies, right?"

"Why….why's…he doin' this?" his brother countered that question with one of his own which told Dean that he'd have a hard time later on. "Family…is family so why…?"

Swallowing what he could have said on that subject, Dean took a shuddering breath. "Samuel…he's angry because Mom died, Sam. He blames me for bringing the Yellow Eyed Demon into her life when I was sent back in time to stop her from making the deal and didn't so…"

"What if…caused it?" Sam's voice was weak, halting as if he was fighting for every conscious word, which in same way he was. Right then he was locked onto something that had been bothering him from the start. "What if…you were sent back to make…it happen, not to stop…God!"

His sudden cry took Dean's mind off of the whirling accusations that were forming in his brain as he held Sam tighter against his side even as the boy wanted to curl into a ball against the burning pain shooting through his veins.

"Sam, what're you talking about?" he asked, shifting a hard questioning look toward Castiel. "You need to rest, don't think about…"

Fingers that shook with tremors seized his hand but the grip could barely hold on while Sam's eyes strained to make out his brother's rugged face. "Angels…lied to us," he gasped, needing Dean to understand before he was drug under fully. "Cas…was lied to so you'd do things. What if…they sent…you back to Mom not to stop her…but so your involvement would…bring the demon to her? So it would make the deal happen, not to stop it?"

Torn between wanting to comfort his younger brother and rip Cas's head off, Dean slowly lifted his eyes up to the Angel and didn't have to ask the next question verbally because Castiel was already shaking his head.

"Knowing what I know now…I suppose it is possible that Uriel or Zachariah lied to me so that…" he began when a hand shot up, it was a familiar thing Dean did when not wanting to talk.

"It doesn't matter now, Sammy," he spoke in the same soothing tone he only used on his brother when Sam was sick or seriously hurt…or frightened. "I need you to wake up. I'll be right there when you do and…"

Sam, however, knew the truth even if his mind was fighting off the drugs that were even now making little shadows form. "De'n, he'll hurt…"

"Nobody's hurting you, Sammy," Dean assured him, not liking how pale his brother was becoming or the bruises that were showing as he tried to hold on tighter. "I'll be with you but you need to fight this and wake up for me."

Hearing his brother's voice growing softer, Sam realized what was happening because he recalled the same symptoms after the shapeshifter attack. The poisons in his body were taking him back to the places he'd rather die than go to again. "Scared, De," he murmured, closing his eyes but feeling a strong hand grip his. "I don' wan' 'em to hurt again…please…you promised you wouldn't leave…"

Gritting his teeth to keep from screaming in rage as his brother's words ran together, Dean squeezed Sam's hand. "I will be with you, Sammy," he promised, feeling the younger man going limp. "Sam!" his eyes shot to Castiel. "If I wake up, will he?"

"There's not way to tell," Castiel replied grimly, going on quickly. "You need to wake up if either of you stand a chance, Dean."

"If Sam doesn't wake up, do you think I give a damn if I do?" Dean shot back, watching as his brother's body began to shake as if fighting something only he could see when a hand suddenly slapped his already injured shoulder. "Hey, watch it!"

"If you don't wake up, Samuel will kill you and have free rein to abuse Sam's body in any way he or his people or allies like, is that what you want?" Castiel demanded, using a portion of what power he had here to try to shield the younger Winchester but feeling that it was too late in many ways. "Dean, Sam's been poisoned in a much greater dosage than was used before. By shooting your cousin, the Campbells will have realized that something has gone terribly wrong and will now go to their backup plan…killing you and taking Sam."

Looking at the grim Angel for a long second, Dean nodded before gently shifting so that he could move his brother. Jerking open the back door of the Impala, he ignored a confused Castiel when he carefully eased Sam inside the backseat. "You'll be safe here, Sammy," he promised, voice husky as he lightly pushed back his brother's bangs before taking off his amulet to close limp fingers around it. "I swear, baby brother that I'll make it better for you…I just have to go kill some evil sons of bitches first and then it'll be good."

Wishing desperately for their Dad's leather jacket to give his brother, Dean hesitated another moment before closing the door but cleared his throat before turning to face an impassive Castiel. "Can we save him?"

"I…do not know," not at all surprised by the question, Castiel chose to be honest. "Sam was weak before this. The attack, the drugs again, the injuries inflicted…healing this time may be impossible but…"

"Hang onto that but, Cas," Dean scrubbed his face to clear the tears from his eyes as he reached for the silver knife that Mary had given to Sam. "How do we get me out of here first?"

This tone the Angel knew well. It was his friend's tone that spoke of Dean's anger and the one he usually only used when his brother was in danger. He would willingly accept the risks to himself but not to Sam.

"Focus on what you want most," he explained grimly. "Focus and think about waking up because if you don't…you will die."

"Little bit more enthusiasm, Cas," the young hunter remarked, looking back once more at the Impala where his little brother laid. "Hang on, Sammy. I'll get you home or die trying. I'll…"

Castiel sighed when his friend vanished, watching as the scene behind him slowly faded into nothing as well while he silently hoped that Gabriel's plan was going correctly.

**Back at the Campbell Compound:**

"Son of a bitch, goddamn it, mother…" right then the former Trickster/Archangel was using every four-letter word in his multi-language mind as he fought to both deal with the Angel enforcers that Raphael had brought along and keep from being friend by the highly pissed off Archangel.

Shoving the knife all Archangels carried into the chest of another enforcer, something else drew his attention and sent his concern up several notches.

Christian Campbell's unconscious form had been lying on a cot against the far wall while he did his Uncle's dirty work when it suddenly jerked as it struck by a strong blow before the blood began spilling from his mouth and nose.

"Shit, the kid just couldn't keep that temper in check," Gabriel groaned, realizing what must have occurred a second before the others in the room also noticed the change.

"Christian!" Gwen screamed, feeling for a pulse but finding none. "Samuel! He's dead…what happened?"

Using the blunt end of a rifle against Rufus Turner's skull, the bald Campbell patriarch turned to see his nephew's state when he realized what had occurred and rage filled him.

"Gwen, have the others help you take Sam into the other room and lock him down!" he snapped, grabbing for a knife that had fallen to the floor from another hunter. "I'll handle this!"

"Yeah, I bet you will," Bobby Singer growled, not liking the looks of this even as several of the Campbell crew began to move the rack that Sam was strapped to, along with all the machines, out of this room. The gruff older hunter had a bad feeling that if he let the boy go he'd lose him all together.

Snapping his fingers to make another enforcer vanish, Gabriel swore when he was slammed into a pillar by Raphael. "Singer! Don't let them take the kid!" he shouted, glaring at the other Archangel. "Y'know, we really need to talk about getting you a hobby. You're much too intense. You need to relax."

"Joke all you want, Gabriel, but you can't save either Winchester," Raphael replied while picking up a blade. "Samuel can do what he wants to that one for now but Michael's betraying vessel will pay the price and you can't stop it."

Bobby had whirled at that and cursed under his breath in Latin. "Rufus, shoot that bastard while I get to Sam!" he shouted, firing a shotgun into the chest of one man, knocking him back when Gwen's fired a round from her own weapon to strike him in the upper arm. "Damn!"

Torn between helping his friend and saving the eldest Winchester brother, Rufus swore but raised a pistol to try to wing Samuel before he could slit his grandsons' throat when another hunter grabbed him from behind, knocking the knife loose and slamming the older man into a wall.

"Gwen, I said go!" Samuel ordered, wanting the younger boy dealt with while he finished this. Gripping the knife tightly, he stared at the seemingly peacefully sleeping face of his daughter's oldest son. "I wanted you to watch what happened to your brother, boy. I wanted you to know the kind of agony he'll suffer this time but I'm not risking this operation anymore so it's time to make you pay for taking my little girl away," he stated coldly, no emotion as he lifted the knife. "I hope both you and your father burn in hell for the way my Mary died."

"Dean!" Bobby screamed, helpless to get to either of the boys and vowing to light up the next Angel he saw if one of them didn't pull a miracle out of their wings.

Gazing at the scene, Raphael's impassive features took on a dry smile while he raised the knife. "You see, Gabriel? You should have stayed dead because you couldn't protect the Winchesters and I'll make certain that you stay dead this time."

"Really?" cocking his head with a smirk, the former Tricker's eyes were amused even as he seemed to vanish in front of the other Archangel.

"What?" Raphael frowned when a light tap on his shoulder caused him to turn just when a fist slammed into his nose.

Rubbing his knuckles, Gabriel caught the blade as it fell. "Funny, I don't happen to agree with you there, Ralphy," he smirked, snapping his fingers. "The one thing I've learned about Winchesters over the years, and these two aren't the first ones I've met by the way, is they have a bad habit of not wanting to stay dead and this isn't even my biggest trick"

Whirling to stare as Samuel lifted the blade to bring it plunging into Dean's heart, everyone watched the blade swing down even when the straps holding the young hunter seemed to vanish, allowing a hand to shoot up to grasp the wrist of a stunned Samuel Campbell.

"Yeah, not happening," Dean's green eyes were tired but hard when he opened them to stare at his shocked grandfather. "Give Christian my regards when you see him in hell, old man," he gritted, twisting the wrist hard to gain control of the blade but saw stars when a connecting fist to his infected and injured shoulder nearly took him back out of the game. "Shit! Cas, get Sam outta here!" he snapped, hoping the Angel was around when he kicked out with a leg to try to give himself some room but wasn't counting on being as weak as he was and falling.

"You should've died in there, Dean," Samuel spat, reaching for the knife again as he kicked the boy's one leg out from under him before slamming a hard fist into his shoulder again. "But, at least you'll get to watch your brother die. Gwen! Kill him, now!"

Having taken care of the mortals who were bothering Bobby and Rufus, Castiel turned to deal with the woman and the few hunters that posed a threat to Sam when Gabriel grabbed his arm, stopping him. "

"Give it a minute," he urged, sighing when he noticed that Raphael had skipped out. "Figures. Things weren't going his way so the big baby ran away."

"Hey, either of you gonna help the boys?" Bobby was cranky and getting shot made him even more so.

Waving a hand while reaching for a candy bar in his pocket, Gabriel didn't seem concerned right then. "Dean'll help his brother," he replied easily enough, wincing when even one handed Bobby yanked him up to his face.

"Who's gonna help Dean, smart guy?" he demanded gruffly, wondering what the hell he did with that traveling tin of Holy Oil. "He's barely in this fight and oh, shit…"

The words died off when he caught Dean being knocked back into the rack that had just, until recently, been his prison, with the senior Campbell pounding the hilt of the knife into the boy's face and chest while digging curved fingers into what was obviously one of the nastier wounds the boy had.

"Plan C, Bobby old pal," Gabriel replied with a smirk, seeing Castiel's frown and figuring that he'd figured it out by now. "I owed a favor."

"Huh?" both hunters turned to stare at the Archangel even as Bobby was starting to move to help Dean when something else shimmered into sight. "Oh, my God."

"You should've stopped asking questions, Dean," Samuel was saying as he continued to beat on an already emotionally and physically exhausted Dean. "Sam was never supposed to be found. You were supposed to have been killed by that damn 'shifter, thinking it was Sam finally turning on you and your brother would've been kept in oblivion until we were done with him than Crowley or Raphael could fight over him," he went on, shrugging off the weak attempts the younger man made to fight back. "Now, because of the mess you've made and for costing me Christian, I'll make damn sure your little brother suffers even more than before. I'll make sure he sees the worst of his memories and yours and he'll die thinking you abandoned him."

Barely with it at this point, Dean's mind cleared at the mention of his brother. Fighting for Sam's sake was second nature to him by this point but the pain shooting through his shoulder and the nausea the infection was causing made it hard to get the upper hand on a man who was not only in better health but was a sadistic bastard who didn't give a damn.

"Touch…my brother…and I'll…kill you," he gritted, not fighting the scream when something struck a wound in his side that he hadn't known he'd had until now.

"How, when you'll be dead before him, son and there's no one who can save you now," Samuel told him coolly, grabbing the younger man's shirt to slash the knife when a strong hand gripped his arm to stop the movement of the blade from striking the young hunter.

Shock was setting in despite Dean's best attempts to fight back when he realized the blade had been stopped even as he noticed a look of actual fear on Samuel's face when a voice from beyond the grave settled in his ears.

"Dean, get your brother. I have this."

**A/N: **_I know, I know. Another cliffhanger and with Sam's life hanging in the balance. Who did Gabriel owe a favor to and who is his Plan C? Can you guess? Will Gwen kill our Sammy before Dean reaches him and will he survive? Will his mind be intact or shattered? Will Bobby ever get to fry someone with that Holy Oil? Chapter 11 answers some of these vital questions as Samuel Campbell learns why it's not wise to mess with someone's sons._


	11. Chapter 11

**Fears & Dreams**

**Chapter Eleven**

"Dean, get your brother. I have this."

Moving on instinct, Dean only stopped when his mind kicked back in and he froze to look back to see… "Dad?" he breathed, wondering if this was still a false image until he felt Cas's hand on his arm but his gaze was locked on that of John Winchester.

However, unlike the image he had seen in that place, this was his father as he'd been in those last days before the accident, before John had given his life to save Dean's own. Only the tone in John's voice was one that Dean couldn't recall ever hearing his Father use before.

Quiet but dark, threatening… no, warning as John seemed to put himself between his sons and his wife's father. "Dean," he said again, only this was said in the way his son remembered.

"Gwen, kill him now!" Samuel shouted, lunging with the knife but John easily caught the wrist and disarmed the older man while hoping his boys would be alright.

Tossing the blade aside, John gazed at his father-in-law for a long moment. "Did you honestly think you could hurt my boys, Mary's boys, and not have to deal with one of us?" he asked, unsure how long he had to handle this but refusing to allow this burden to fall on the shoulders of his eldest.

"You're a figment that Angel brought!" Samuel snapped, grabbing for something when a fist grabbed his arm. "You're not real!"

"You've attacked, drugged, and hurt my boys. You should've hoped I wasn't," John's voice was a low growl.

Refusing to believe this, Dean shrugged free of Castiel even as the Angel was moving to handle the men near the youngest Winchester. "Sam!" he yelled, freezing when he caught sight of Gwen. "Get away from him."

"You killed Christian," she spat, hand held steady in the IV controllers that were hooked into Sam's arms. "You killed him!"

"Choice between him and my brother? Yeah, I did," Dean acknowledged, eyes hard as he stepped closer. "Did you take part in what Christian said Samuel allowed to happen to Sam last year?" he asked, fighting the urge to look behind him at what was happening but needing to keep his eyes locked on Gwen because if he looked at how small and helpless his brother looked again he'd forget himself and go for her throat.

Gwen looked between the brothers for a moment as if considering but when she lifted her eyes, Dean saw a smile that chilled him to the core. "Sweetie, how'd you think your baby brother got that wound on his back?" she challenged. "I'm much better with a knife than Christian or Mark," she smirked, seeing the anger on his face. "He was so ruined in that place when he saw that he'd killed you. I almost felt sorry for him…almost but not enough to regret this."

"No!" lunging, Dean swore even as the woman's hand pushed the controller to force all the liquid in the IV tubes to drain into his brother's veins at once to cause an instant and violent reaction in Sam. "Sammy!"

"Pay attention to yourself, hero," she warned, pulled a pistol out to aim it at Dean's back even as he fought to stop the sudden convulsions in his younger brother. "A simple bullet to the back isn't what you deserve, Dean but I have to go help…who?"

Castiel had appeared to touch the weapon, making it vanish before he touched two fingers to Gwen's forehead to render her unconscious and no longer a threat as he stepped up to Dean. "Can you handle…?"

"Deal with the rest of these assholes!" Dean snapped, no longer caring what was happening around him since he was confident that between Castiel and Bobby, they'd deal with any leftover hunters and that damn joke playing Archangel owed them enough to at least keep any higher powered foes off his back. "Sammy!"

Swearing violently, Dean ignored the pain in his own body in order to concentrate on his little brother. Hating the straps and chains that held Sam to the damn rack, Dean was forced to leave them be while he tried to stop the convulsions.

Moving quickly yet carefully, he once again pulled the Ivs free from Sam's battered arms and was shocked to see how much worse his brother was hurt physically than he was. Relieved that the IV tracks didn't bleed when removed, he was quick to put both hands on his brother's neck and gripped the back tightly toward the base where Pastor Jim had once taught him when learning first aid. Squeezing the fingers into coiled muscles a few times, the violent convulsions slowly eased into hard tremors and then into jerks.

"It's okay, little brother. I'm here and Bobby's here and…I hate that damn Angel but Rufus is here too so we'll ignore Gabriel for the time being," Dean spoke quickly but soothingly, letting his hands slowly ease back to cup Sam's face in his palms; not liking how clammy his skin was or how pale or… "_Sonuvabitch_!"

He'd been expecting Sam to be hurt considering what he'd learned and he still recalled the state he'd found the kid in before but he hadn't expected such brutal wounds in this short a time period. Nor did he expect the tube that had been inserted down his brother's throat or the smaller one that seemed to be hooked to the back of… "Oh, God, Sammy," he whispered, not wanting to touch the smaller one but wanting it off his brother so after jerking the straps off with every violent oath he knew, he gently eased the younger man to his side to remove the tube that was going to the base of his skull.

Dean swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat while he quickly put a pressure pad over the small seeping wound before returning his brother to his back to work on the tube in his throat when he noticed something else.

"What the hell…" using hands that he was amazed didn't shake, Dean eased his brother's ripped shirt to one side and felt his hate raise.

While both he and Sam carried the anti-possession tattoos, those were by personal choice…well mostly since he'd practically dragged Sam in to get it down but it was still a choice. The deeply embedded and obviously very raw and infected brand that had been burned into his younger brother's chest, right under the tattoo, was a different matter entirely.

"Dean? You alright, boy?" Bobby, clutching a rag to his own gunshot wound, appeared by his side looking worried as he glanced between the boys and over to where he was pretty sure the ghost of his long dead friend was beating the crap out of Samuel Campbell. "Dean?"

"They branded him, Bobby," the voice that came out of Dean was tight with suppressed fury and anguish. "One of these sons of bitches put a goddamn hunters brand on my little brother."

As Dean went back to unhook and remove the tube, Rufus nudged Bobby's good arm. "Hunters brand?" he lifted a brow, having heard of it but never seeing one before. "That what I think it is?"

"Back in the early days, hunters would brand their prey if they didn't kill 'em right off," Bobby nodded, keeping his voice low so it didn't upset an already pissed off Dean Winchester. "They'd brand witches and the like so other hunters would always know when they came across one."

"So by branding the mark on Sam, they were…" Rufus blew out a breath when a grunt from across the room made him look. "By the way, is it me or is that the boy's dead father beating the hell outta their Granddad?"

"That bastard ain't no damn relation to us," Dean gritted, fingers shaking now as they brushed Sam's lax face and felt the still damp tears that his brother had sometime cried while enduring this new horror. "If that is or isn't my Dad, I don't care. I just want this crap off of Sam!"

Struggling not to jerk the tube out, he was more than careful as he slowly extracted the heavy tubing from his brother's throat until it came free with a sickening sound. "Sam," carding trembling fingers through damp brown hair, Dean finally gave up and with a muttered curse pulled his brother's limp body up from the rack until he had him pressed into his arms. "It's alright, Sammy. You're safe now," he promised, needing the contact right and could shrug off the huge chick-flick moment as infection when he pressed his face closer to Sam and that's when he noticed it. "Sam? Sammy?"

Hearing the sudden alarm building in the boy's voice, both Bobby and Rufus turned from watching John and Samuel have it out to where Castiel was motioning around him to a smirking Gabriel. "Dean? What's wrong?" Bobby demanded, not liking the sudden stricken look on the older boy's face when he held his brother easily in one arm while he pressed his other hand to Sam's chest. "Boy, answer me! What's…"

"He's not breathing, Bobby," Dean muttered, forgetting his normal calm and losing his usual cocky composure as that sank in. "Sam's not breathing!"

"Shit!" Bobby growled, grabbing Rufus by the shoulder. "Help Dean get Sam on the floor," he snapped, explaining at the blank look. "We need room and we want him off this damn thing."

Not even hearing Bobby's words, Dean was already moving. Without waiting for help and ignoring the now freely bleeding wound in his shoulder, he had his brother off the rack and laid on the stone floor as gently as he could while fighting panic.

"C'mon, Sammy, don't do this to me," he urged, not paying attention to what was going on around him as he began CPR on his unresponsive brother. "You can fight this. I know you can. You're stronger than these assholes and didn't I promise that I'd make it better if you gave me a chance?"

Reacting before Bobby could do it himself, Rufus nudged the boy's hands aside to take over the chest compressions which allowed Dean to try to force air back into Sam's unmoving lungs.

After several moments of trying to force his little brother to breathe on his own and upon feeling how cold his body was becoming, Dean forgot the shields he'd always kept up. He forgot that he'd always been the brave one when it came to protecting Sammy and he protect his rule to never show any emotion that could possibly be used against him.

"Sam?" his voice nothing but a whisper when he touched Sam's face, the realization setting in that his baby brother wasn't breathing and that his heart wasn't beating. With this came sheer terror and a reaction that he hadn't had since he'd been in his early teens and Sam had been hurt on a hunt, pulling Sam up tight against his best he whirled. "_Dad_!"

Not knowing what was happening across the room with his sons, John Winchester struggled to tamp down the rage in his heart as he faced his wife's own father…a man that he had watched Mary bury even before they married.

"Who brought you back?" he demanded, knowing that some deal would have had to have been made to accomplish that. "You had a knife plunged in your gut so how…"

"Your Yellow-Eyed pal had control when that happened and yeah, I died after he forced Mary to make a deal to save you but he hadn't known that I'd already made a deal long before that," Samuel replied, the blade still held ready in his fist as he circled John. "Damn demon was supposed to kill you long before you had a chance to ruin my daughter. I gave up everything so that Mary would stay with her family but she screwed it up by saving _you_."

Staring at the older man in shock, John was openly shocked by this revelation. "Damn," he blew out a breath. "I knew you hated me, Samuel. I knew that you never thought I was good enough for Mary but I never thought you'd risk her or your family on a deal just to get rid of me. Why?"

Cold eyes shifted to look over John's shoulder, Samuel's expression seemed to take on an even more dark expression. "I heard Mary telling her mother that she was going to run away with you. That she didn't want to be a hunter, that she wanted a normal life with you and I wasn't going to lose my daughter," he replied, clutching the knife to thrust it forward in an experienced feint move that should have gutted the younger man…if John hadn't been expecting it.

"The first defense move that Jim Murphy ever taught me was how to tell a knife feint, Samuel," he explained grimly, easily disarming his father-in-law and hurling the knife away. "I'm not the same small time mechanic I was when you were really alive, Samuel. I stopped being that man the night that Mary died."

"My daughter shouldn't have died!" Samuel yelled, enraged. "She should have stayed with her family, married a man chosen for her and passed on what she knew to a proper generation. Not marry some two-some nobody with no prospects and have two bastard sons not worthy to carry the Campbell blood in their…ugh!"

A hard fist to the jaw cut the older man's tirade off as he was knocked backwards only to have a hand reach down, pull him back up and punch him again, harder this time as unexpected fury exploded at those words.

"You can call me any damn thing you want, old man," John gritted, eyes furious as his fist continued to punch. "God knows you did before when Mary and I first started dating. You can call me anything, you can say whatever the hell you want to me, about me but the two things you don't ever speak against are my wife and my sons," he snapped, throwing a final punch before jerking Samuel up to slam him against a wall with force. "You don't ever call my boys bastards because they are better men than you or your so-called family will ever be and Mary loved them."

Thinking back on memories of the happier days, John could see his wife on the day each of their sons were born and the joy they shared before that fateful night happened. "Did you know what would happen?"

Despite being bloodied, Samuel's cold features never changed as he spat blood out his mouth. "A hunter always has a contingency plan, Winchester and…I had mine. If I lost my daughter then I'd make damn sure you and anything that came out of that marriage would live to regret it," he replied evenly, adding with a dark smirk. "Or, in this case, not live."

"What?" John frowned, not liking the words or the possible meaning when another sound penetrated the haze of anger he was still feeling toward Samuel. The sheer and absolute panic in his oldest son's voice as he screamed for John like he had only one other time.

"_Dad!"_

Turning quickly, it took John no time to take in the fear on Dean's face to how white and unmoving Sam was in his brother's arms to understand something serious had happened. "What the hell did you do, Samuel?" he demanded, fist gripping the older man's shirt tighter when he laughed. "_What did you do to my son_?"

"The one drug we used, when Gwen emptied the IV into the boy it not only completely paralyzed his body but also his respiratory system as well as all of his neurological movements," Samuel explained, seeing the horrified expression building. "It wasn't as painful as I would have liked him to have died but to die totally aware but unable to fight it…well, it'll have to do," he tried to shrug. "Pity this only claimed one son. I was aiming for a clean sweep."

"You son of a…" John's fist drew back when Dean screamed for him again and he hesitated, torn between wanting to go to his boys and dealing with the man who had put them in this position.

"John, get your ass over here or dead or not I'll find some damn way to unload a round of buckshot in you!" Bobby snapped, barely keeping Dean in control while Rufus tried to get Sam away from his brother to continue some type of first aid. "This is your big Plan?" he growled when Castiel dragged Gabriel over to the brothers. "You bring John back to deal with Samuel and Sam still dies?"

Choking on his candy bar, the now offended Archangel blinked. "You do recall me telling you that you really needed to unload that shotgun into Daddy Winchester a few times, right?" he complained, rolling his eyes. "I don't know how he came to be here because I sure didn't poof him in."

"Who did you owe the favor to, Gabriel?" Castiel demanded, kneeling down next to Dean to see what, if anything, could be done. "Who is your Plan C?"

Muttering about dense brothers and hunters, the Archangel pointed to where John Winchester was still deciding which decision to make. "Her."

Dean was oblivious by this point to anything but the limp body in his arms and so he missed the gaping stares of the older hunters. Even Castiel sent his brother an odd look before gazing back down.

"Help him, Gabriel," he didn't make it sound like a suggestion, not understanding why his own renewed powers weren't bringing Sam back like he expected them to. "My powers aren't healing him. You're an Archangel. You can bring him back."

"Sure, the question is, why should I?" the other countered smartly, dropping his eyes just as Dean lifted his head and despite the tears that were opening being shed there was also no mistaking the dangerous intent. "This is gonna be just like that talk I had with Sammy after the whole Mystery Spot thing, ain't it?"

Refusing to let go of his little brother, Dean locked eyes with the Archangel that most times he wanted to burn. "You dragged him outta the damn Cage. You wanted Sam out. Now you're going to let him die? He didn't ask for this shit! Now heal him or you'll be the next son of a bitch on my list to Holy Oil out of existence once I can feel my damn arm again!" he warned.

Taking a deep breath, Gabriel was slow to let it out. He liked these two kids, he really did. So he honestly hated what was happening but even he had limits, much to his disgust. "It's not up to me, kiddo," he finally replied, jerking a thumb back to John. "It's up to your old man. If he chooses to deal with baldy then Sammy bites it for real and nothing me, Cas, or any Angel can change that."

"That's great," Bobby wanted to go over and drag the man but held off when Dean's gaze fell on Sam's boyish looking face again and the grizzled hunter knew just by the way the older brother's lips thinned that he knew the outcome then. "Dean…" the name was drawn out in warning.

Being as gentle as he had when his brother had been a fragile infant, Dean laid Sam back on the floor but kept a palm pressed to his cheek for a moment longer. "I'll be right back, Sammy," he promised quietly, fighting to stand despite the ringing in his head and the twisting in his stomach. "Big brother needs to go kick someone's ass and maybe cram something sharp into that bald freak while I'm at it."

"This should be fun," Gabriel had pulled an apple from his pocket, leaning against a pole with his ankles crossed to watch as the elder Winchester brother seemed to gain some strength as he walked to where his Father and Grandfather were in a stalemate. "Course, she'll kill 'em both if either of those jackasses touch him."

"You can kill me, John, since Sam's already dead," Samuel invited, his own hand gripping the fist that was holding him against the wall. "Then, it was always clear which son you preferred, wasn't it?"

John's eyes narrowed but then he found himself jerked away from his father-in-law and looking into the too large but still intense green eyes of his eldest. "Dean."

"Get your ass over there and help Sam," Dean gritted, not caring if he was in his Father's face or not. "My less than favorite Archangel said you could help him so do it and…" he spun to throw a weak punch with his good arm into Samuel's chin. "You are first on my list to kill for touching Sammy because he had nothing to do with this crap. You hated me so you should've come after me, not touch my brother!" he snapped, blinking when his eyes seemed to blur out of focus.

"Boy, touching your brother has always been the best way to get to you," Samuel replied when he suddenly moved with more speed than anyone had counted on, a small penknife held in his fist as he plunged it toward the distracted young hunter.

"Dean!" John grabbed for his son but swore when it became hard to hold on to anything and he realized his time here was running out.

Hearing his father's voice as well as a shout from Bobby, Dean went to back away on instinct when he felt the gentle hand on his back that moved him well out of danger even as he seemed to sense a smaller, frailer form place itself between him and Samuel.

"You've touched my sons enough so how about you sucking this up and facing me now…Daddy?"

"Mom?" Dean's vision was coming back as the pain in his shoulder evened off but seeing his Mother as she had been before she died in the fire nearly brought him to his knees.

Mary Winchester didn't take her blue eyes off those of her father, the knife she'd given Sam held firmly in her hand. "Dean, go back to your brother and don't let go of him," she instructed gently as if feeling his fear. "It'll be alright."

Wanting to argue that it wouldn't be, Dean recognized the tone of voice when she addressed John and decided to follow those orders.

"Mary…" John had been startled by this appearance and prayed, for Dean's sake, that it was real when she took her free hand and still without looking away from Samuel, slapped him hard across the face. "I guess I deserved that."

"For raising our sons in a life I detested, yes. You deserved that," Mary agreed, voice hardening. "If we had more time, I'd show you what you deserved for raising your damn hand to my sons and eventually we will be dealing with that but now, you have to do one damn good thing for Dean, John," she replied evenly. "You have to lose your bitterness, lose your anger and give him his brother back."

Staring, John seemed confused. "Mary, I'm not sure how I got here or why. I just know that I had to stop Samuel but this…" he hesitated. "Sammy's been down too long, I don't have…"

"When you were brought here, you were told that you had the power to do one good thing, John," she reminded him, not bothering to explain how she knew that. "You can choose to kill my Father or save our son…" now she looked away from Samuel briefly to hold the wet eyes of her husband. "No matter what was done to him or how he grew up or anything else, Sam is still our baby, John. Our youngest and if you let this happen, you and I both know that his brother won't survive for long without him. If you hurt those boys again, I will kick your ass all through the damn afterlife and beyond!" she snapped.

Feeling that his time was running out and seeing the shadows almost hovering over his boys, John nodded. "I'm sorry it turned out this way, Mary," he murmured, lightly kissing her goodbye before walking away and leaving her to face Samuel alone.

"Damn Angels and their tricks," Samuel spat, shifting but freezing when the blade rose and he recognized it. "You're not my little girl."

"I grew up in the ten years after you died, Daddy," she tossed back, eyes sad as she gazed at her Father. "I always knew how obsessed you were with hunting but I never imagined that you'd do this. Hurting me and John would be one thing but to hurt my sons? Why?"

"They were his, not Mary's," Samuel looked over. "They took my daughter and I've made deals to get her back so you'll be…"

Mary shook her head, stepping to the side as if keeping between her Father and her family. "You will never bring back the daughter you want because she stopped existing a long time ago and you will never live to touch my sons again. I won't allow it. I won't allow you to hurt them like you've hurt Sam and…"

"So sorry, my dear, but I'm afraid that Samuel and his crew are still much too useful to me to be allowed to meet an end here tonight."

"Crowley," Bobby growled, shoving his shotgun at Rufus. "Shoot that damn son of a bitch!"

The former King of the Crossroads clucked his tongue as he simply snapped his fingers and Samuel and the hunters in his charge vanished without a trace. "Boys, boys, boys, don't be too disappointed. I mean, I did bring Samuel back and he was going to double-cross me with Raphael of all people so I will most certainly be telling him how wrong that was…not to mention I had people who would've paid a lot to have Sammy in this position."

The blade was at his throat in the next instant. "Go back to hell, demon," Mary hissed, nothing but lethal certainty in her voice. "Your kind has hurt my family enough so keep in mind if you sic my Father on my boys again, your bones will burn."

"Well, I certainly see where the dimwits get their moxy," Crowley smiled, stepping back carefully to avoid the knife in her hand. "We'll see who wins in the end, little Mary. Your eldest or your dear old Dad." he paused before turning. "Dean? You might not like what you bring back, just an FYI so you know."

"Me you want to burn in Holy Oil but he gets nothing but a glare?" Gabriel was astonished, throwing his arms up in outrage but grew silent when he didn't get the reply he expected.

Dean had sat back on the floor to ease Sam's lifeless body into his arms, smoothing a hand through shaggy hair and fought the rage building inside. He vividly recalled the last time he'd held his lifeless little brother. In Cold Oaks after Jake had stabbed him in the back, he'd held Sam like this too. Too angry at himself for failing to protect him better even when he knew the danger his brother was in and too weak to go on alone. Just like this time.

He had known that Sam was worried about being alone. He'd seen the fear in the boy but had rationalized it as it only being because Sam was still recovering from being held for a year by that damn 'shifter. "I shouldn't have left him," his voice was rough as he buried the burning tears, eyes locked on his brother's face. "This wouldn't have happened if I just hadn't left him."

Castiel started to speak when a hard elbow was shoved into his ribs as Gabriel shook his head but it was more the grim look in the older Angel's gaze that kept him silent.

"Son," John knelt next to his two boys, swallowing the lump that had formed when he saw the tears glistening in his eldest boy's eyes and remembered another time he had seen Dean holding his little brother with tears shining but that time the tears were mixed with hate for their father. Sam had been sixteen, another mistake John had made that he'd never be able to make up for.

"You gave your soul, you went to Hell to save me after the accident," Dean spoke hesitantly, clearly trying to make his voice steady despite the fact that he'd started to shake. "I'll make any type of deal, promise anything if Sammy can live."

"The hell you will, boy!" Bobby's blood pressure, which was already high, soared at this. "The whole damn lot of you, one sacrifice after another! When is it enough?"

Blinding grief livid on Dean's face when he looked up at the older man. "I'm his brother! I'm supposed to protect him!" he yelled back, not giving a damn at this point. "I swore to him this time, I swore when I took him outta that damn warehouse in Lawrence and stayed by his side for weeks afterward that I would never let him be hurt like that again, Bobby! I promised Sammy and I let _this_ happen! He's dead! I don't give a damn about anything if I lose him again," shooting a desperate look to his father, Dean dropped the last wall he had and begged. "Please, Dad. If you can do anything, just make Sammy wake up."

Feeling that his brief time back in reality was coming to a close, John looked up into Mary's soft eyes with a sudden understanding. "You know that Sam's been hurt bad this time, son," he spoke gently, laying a hand on his uninjured shoulder. "Even if I can do something, I can't promise how he'll be or…"

"I'll handle it, Dad," Dean assured him, grasping onto that slimmest hope. "I know what he saw in that place. I know he'll be scared but I handled him after Lawrence and I can do it this time too…just bring him back…just let me have my little brother and maybe I won't find a way to beat the crap outta you for letting Stanton hurt him or anything else I may or may not learn."

"Oh, I'll beat the crap out of your Father for that, Dean," Mary smiled sweetly, running a hand over his short hair and felt her heart nearly break for the child he had once been. "John, we need to go. Do this."

Still unsure, John Winchester wiped his own eyes as he once again gazed at his grown sons but deeper down saw the boys they'd once been. He could recall Dean's laugh when baby Sammy had first grasped onto his finger. He recalled how Dean had never been two steps behind his baby brother growing up except for the few times when John himself had come between them.

"You know that I never meant to place all this on you, son," he began grimly, gripping Dean's neck in a move that Bobby had often caught the boy doing with his brother. "If I could do it all again, I'd like to say that I'd give you and Sam better lives but I don't know if I could've. I don't know if I can do this but after the pain I've caused both of you boys, I'll try because I don't want either of my sons dead, Dean. I know that your brother had his doubts, especially after that last fight, but I did love both of you."

"We know that, Dad," Dean murmured, feeling the touch getting lighter even while watching as John placed a hand on Sam's forehead before leaning closer to whisper something to both of his boys. "I know, Dad. Sammy loved you too."

Meeting Mary's eyes, Gabriel finished his apple before straightening. "We're square now. You helped me once and now I've helped you as best as this has," he remarked. "The boys are on their own because visits like this break a lot of rules and the new Sheriff here can't be known for breaking his own rules."

"Shut up, Gabriel," Castiel muttered, not liking the feeling he was getting.

"Be strong, Dean and don't give up…on either of you," Mary whispered, ghosting a kiss across his forehead before jabbing a finger into the former Trickster's chest. "And you. If you ever drop a piano on my son again, you'll find your next piece of candy could be your last."

Groaning about the threats of every Winchester available, he waited until both parents had joined hands to snap his fingers and soon, the warehouse was just two Angels, two grizzled hunters and two brothers who it was still up in the air on their condition.

"We need to get them outta here," Rufus was saying.

Dean's hand shook as it laid on Sam's chest, praying silently to anyone who would listen that it moved. He'd convinced himself that Gabriel was right…for once and that John had the ability to do one good thing and saving Sammy would be it.

"Sammy?" he whispered, placing two fingers on the side of his neck to feel for a pulse but only felt his own slowly draining away. "Sam?" he called again, louder this time as he tried shaking the limp form again but nothing happened. "_Sonuvabitch_!" his yell took Bobby and Rufus off guard but before either man could move, Dean was pulling his little brother up fully into his arms to just hold on as he let the grief finally spill out with the hard punch to the gut that his little brother, his Sammy…was dead. "_Noooo_!"

As the grief filled screamed echoed in the now empty room, Gabriel tossed away his barely started candy bar as his appetite left with a sickening drop to his stomach. "I am so gonna burn," he decided.

**A/N: **_Okay, just a reminder that cliffhangers are good. They build reader/writer trust, patience and the knowledge that one must not virtually kill the author before she writes Chapter 12. I don't write death fics so Sam isn't…dead and yes, he'll have a soul (I'm not heartless) but how will he be and how will Dean handle the fallout of his brother's injuries? Also, is this the last we've seen of Samuel? Chapter 12 coming soon._


	12. Chapter 12

**Fears & Dreams**

**Chapter Twelve**

"Yeah, brilliant plan there, Angel boy," Rufus Turner snapped, not sure who he needed to grab first but settled on reaching for his long time friend when Bobby seemed to weave a little too much. "Bobby, sit down. I'll…handle this," even though he wasn't certain what to do.

Dean Winchester had latched onto his younger brother, the scream of rage and grief still echoing in the room as he held him tighter. Turning to bury his face into the mop of shaggy hair that he'd always complained about he couldn't stop the tears that came this time.

"Dean…" Castiel finally took a step before either Bobby or Gabriel could advise him not to. "Let Sam go, it's over."

"Oy," the former Trickster covered his eyes before slapping the other Angel in the head. "Bro, enraged, grief-stricken Winchesters…not good to piss off. Back off and let the boy vent."

Lifting his face, Dean's eyes were hard. "Venting is not what I plan to do," he spoke through clenched teeth while bringing Sam's head tighter to his own neck in a move that was familiar to when they'd been boys and his brother had been frightened. "You are taking Sam back to Bobby's while Cas takes me to find that son of a bitch who did this to my brother and then…and then you'll torch us both because I'll die before doing this crap again."

"Dean, stop it. You ain't doin' anything stupid, boy," Bobby had batted Rufus away to go kneel beside the boys. "This ain't your fault so let's get you both back to my place and…" something made him stop to pay closer attention. "Dean?"

The wounds on his right shoulder forgotten for the moment, Dean wasn't even aware of the other injuries he'd sustained. He only knew that he'd failed to protect his little brother one more time. Only this time, there would be no second chances for them.

Not bothering to stop the tears that dropped from his face to splash Sam's own, his mind was sinking into inky darkness of despair when a weak hand suddenly tried to brush the wetness away and he nearly jerked back upon feeling the soft breath against his neck.

"What the… Sammy?" he whispered, uncertain and not willing to believe until he saw…too large, glassy hazel eyes staring up at him when he eased back a little and he swallowed. "Sam, you with me?"

Frowning, Bobby was just as shocked when the younger Winchester moved against his brother but something seemed to be off and he couldn't put his finger on it.

Easing Sam back far enough so that he could gently grip his neck in order to catch his eyes, Dean recognized the shock and was relieved to see recognition flare in the opposite set of eyes but still held still as if uncertain.

"De'n?" the whisper soft voice sounded like a cannon going off to him and Dean reacted in his usual style.

"C'mere, Sammy," his voice gruff with emotion, he pulled the boy hard against him to just hold on. Keeping a hand on the back of his brother's neck, he fought to ignore the feel of the bandage he'd put to cover the small wound back there and just began to rock, his words soft as he spoke against Sam's neck.

Castiel's gaze narrowed on his friend before landing on the Archangel. "Did you do this?" he demanded lowly, pulling him out of earshot of the hunters. "Dean will not want this, Gabriel. To heal Sam is one thing, but this is…"

"Give the kid time, Cas. It'll sort out…I hope," Gabriel muttered, not intending to admit that he not done anything to bring the youngest Winchester back and that it had been the intention of their father that had worked this. He also hoped to be the hell out of here before either Dean or Singer realized the truth…but he doubted he'd get that lucky as soon as he saw the boy start to squirm.

"De'n?" Sam was dropping his letters to shorten his brother's name, which was an instant alarm bell to Dean but he was willing to allow it for now in favor of just having the kid's chest moving on its own. However, it was when Sam began trying to curl up tighter against him like he had as a kid and as he had right after being rescued that those alarms began getting more shrill.

"Let me look at you, Sammy," he urged carefully, knowing that when Sam was in shock or hurt that you couldn't make sudden moves around him. "You're hurt so we need to see how bad before we move you, okay?"

A brief nod but Sam's eyes had started to move around as if examining his surroundings. "Where we at?" he asked softly, the fingers of his uninjured hand curling around his brother's wrist weakly before his gaze landed on Bobby and a small, almost shy, smile formed. "Uncle Bobby, what you doin' here?"

Blood freezing even as the older man was shooting him a warning look to curb the oath that he knew was forming. "I'm…well, I'm…helping…" Bobby seemed to falter on the exact words as he found himself being watched by huge hazel puppy dog eyes. "Dean, what am I doing?"

"Traitor," Dean hissed, not liking this but hoping he could shrug it off as shock or Sam just waking up. "Sammy, Bobby's…"

"Uncle Bobby, De'n," came the instant correction in a tone that took Dean back too many years and a question slowly formed but before he could ask it, Rufus wondered up holding Dean's denim jacket and the amulet.

Not yet aware of what had transpired while he was searching for the boy's things, Rufus held out the gold amulet to Dean but was more than a little shocked when a hand darted out to grab it from him.

"No! That's my brother's!" Sam's voice was weak but the near scream was still heard as he snatched the amulet away from Rufus to clutch it to his own chest. "De'n's amulet," he whispered, the words more pronounced.

"Whoa there, little brother," Dean urged quickly, motioning the older man back as he caught his brother's arms to keep Sam still. "It's alright. Rufus is a friend of…of Uncle Bobby's," he assured his brother, biting his tongue in an effort to keep his tone level. "Sammy? How old are you?"

Both older hunters looked at him odd for the question but Dean had a hunch that the answer to this question would determine how he handled his brother for, what he prayed was, a short duration.

Blinking up at him, Sam's good hand rubbed at his dry eyes as he once had which again made his brother cringe. "You know how old I am, De'n," he chided, yawning and shivering as shock set in more. "Count four years from you."

"Yeah, I could do that but humor me," Dean replied, gently carding fingers that he was honestly shocked didn't shake through his brother's hair and received the same reaction that Sammy had always given him as a child when he'd done that. "Tell me how old you are."

A near perfect child-like bitch-face was shot his way with full pout but finally Sam shrugged. "I'm eight and you're twelve," he replied, then asked. "Where's Dad, De'n? I don' feel good."

Staring at his brother, Dean struggled to keep his face straight even as Rufus was choking and Bobby was throwing threats toward the Angels in the room.

"Dad…Dad's…" he faltered at the familiar loss he saw in his brother's eyes and found himself shaking. "Sammy…"

"Your Dad's off on a hunting trip with Pastor Jim, Sam," Bobby suddenly spoke up, trying to distract the boy off of what was going to be a poor topic. "A…monster went after you boys so that's how come you're hurt."

Blinking tired eyes, Sam looked as if he were considering that until he nodded. Leaning further into his brother, he shivered again. "Tired, De'n," he murmured, not wanting to appear scared in front of his big brother or Bobby but something about all this was scaring him. He just didn't know what. "Go home now."

"Yeah, Sammy, we're gonna go to Bobby's," Dean assured him, wrapping the denim around his younger sibling while he struggled to stand. "You stay with Bobby a second. I…need to talk with someone."

Giving the older hunters a look, if anyone couldn't guess what Dean's intentions were before as soon as he began snarling at the now backpeddling Archangel. "I'm going to fry you extra crispy if you don't tell me what the hell you did to me brother!"

"Hey, big guy, I didn't do this," Gabriel objected, pulling Castiel in front of him to try to slow down the furious hunter. "The one good thing clause that your Pop was granted…well, it worked but with a side effect that's your fault."

"My fault?" Dean glared, listening to his brother talk rapidly like he had once as a kid when sick or hyped on sugar. "Sam was dead! Now he's breathing again but he thinks he's eight freakin' years old! How is that my fault, you self-important bastard?" he demanded.

Leaning out from around Castiel, Gabriel shot him a sour look. "Exactly! Sammy-boy was dead. Clinically dead and should be pushing up flowers but that thing I said your old man could do really did work but…" swearing, he shot Castiel a dark look when he left him to handle a pissed off Dean alone. "All you were thinking is how you wanted your little brother back alive but you wished he could have the life before all the hassles really started and that, Deano, is exactly what you've got…now cope with it."

Considering briefly a move to wrap his hands around the smirking Archangel's throat, Dean had started to twitch when Gabriel winked. "Never let it be said that I never did you a favor," he added with a snap of his fingers.

Blinking, Bobby barely had a chance to move before Sam collapsed as a move from the joke playing Archangel took them from the Campbell place back to Bobby's place in a blink and the boy's injuries, along with recent shocks, took them both out by the Angel transport.

"Damn stupid featherbrain idjits!" Bobby yelled, pinning Castiel with a dark look. "Help me get these boys upstairs and then you'd better find me some damn answers!" he growled, ignoring Rufus complaining about checking Bobby's own wounds. "First, we deal with my boys and then you can hover, you old fool."

"Right, gonna end up hovering over all of 'em," Rufus snorted, wrapping Dean's good arm around his over his shoulders to get the younger man up the steps while he hoped that this sorted itself out before someone did something drastic.

**Seventy-Two Hours later:**

Groaning as pain shot through every inch of his body, Dean bit back an oath as he decided to lay still and allow his body to resettle. Memories seemed scattered as he tried to recall why he felt like he did right after waking up from being electrocuted.

Keeping his eyes closed, he listened to the happy laugh of his little brother coming from outside and he relaxed a little more with the knowledge that Sammy was safely playing outside at…

"Sammy?" forgetting the pain, Dean sat straight up. Looking up, he quickly came to realize he was in the room that he and Sam had always shared at Bobby's.

Shoving the blankets aside to grab the clean pair of jeans slung on the bottom of the bed, he noticed that he had bruises and stitches and a few new burns that he hadn't gotten in that dream world which meant that someone had done a number on him while he'd been in that state. He could easily guess who had done it and probably done worse to Sam which he promised to deal with later.

Looking down, he noticed both the burn and the stab wound on his shoulder had been dressed but he could tell the wounds were infected even before he noticed the world spin a little but then his brother's laughter caught him again and he almost relaxed, pleased that Sam was safe and happy and…

The memories suddenly came back of leaving Sam, going to Lisa's place, of being attacked by things sicced on them by their very own grandfather and finally of Sam being…dead and then being… "_Sonuvabitch_!" he snarled, grabbing his T-shirt as he bolted from the bedroom. "Sammy!"

Ignoring the pain he was still in, Dean tore down the steps from the second floor and was out the front door a second later only to pull to a stop. "Sam?"

Forgetting about the winters in South Dakota, Dean was amazed that the junkyard he's left…he had no clue how long ago, was now covered in snow but it was in the snowy front yard that he found his little brother playing with the puppy.

Both were covered in snow as the puppy bounded around Sam who tried to catch him only to find himself falling into piles of thick snow and laughing as he had when they'd been kids…when Sam had been…

"You take a step off this porch without shoes on and I'll tan your hide six ways to Sunday, boy!" Bobby's voice growled from behind him as the older man stepped out to hold out Dean's leather jacket. "You've been out like a light from those injuries and that infection for almost four damn days while I've been coping with both Rufus and that brother of yours all by myself."

Touching the jacket, Dean remembered the day he'd left Bobby's. He'd safely tucked his brother into this very jacket and had wrongly assumed all would be well. "How bad is he?" he finally decided to ask, taking the jacket but not putting it on as the puppy jumped up to knock the younger man back down into the snow.

"He took a hell of a beating that's for damn sure and those IV's did a number on him but I ain't been able to check on 'em since he woke up because the kid freaks if Rufus or I go near him," Bobby told him with a dark look. "Sam! Grab that mutt of yours and get your ass inside!" he hollered, narrowing his eyes when he caught the faintly mutinous glare. "Your brother's awake!"

That did the trick as the older hunter knew it would because as soon as Sam heard it, his head shot around and the boyishly happy expression that he'd often had when they'd been kids and the one that he had started getting again to a point in the past few months lit his face even as both he and Boo tore out of the snow to the porch.

"Dean!" he hit his older brother full force with the same enthusiasm that eight year old Sammy had always showed his older brother. "I thought you'd never wake up and Uncle Bobby said I couldn't wake you up cause you were sick and I still don't feel good but it's snowing so the puppy and I play outside or else he and Uncle Rufus threaten to…"

"Sammy, slow down and try that so that I can understand more than every five words," Dean had to laugh at his brother's childlike happiness but a piece of him had hoped that with proper sleep and the time to ease the shock out of his system that his memories would return to normal. No such luck.

Bobby ushered both Winchesters back inside, muttering about stubborn idjits with no good sense and groaning as the puppy tore past them but left a trail of melting snow behind him. "Rufus! Grab that mutt before it…" a crashing from the living room was soon followed by Rufus Turner shouting. "Too late."

"I'll get him," Sam offered, tossing an ill-fitting winter coat over the coat rack which was soon followed by hat, gloves and boots before he took off after the barking puppy and yelling hunter. "You comin', De'n?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a second, Sammy," Dean assured him, waiting until his brother disappeared down the hall to step into the library to slump down on the sofa seat. "God, this so isn't fair for him, Bobby."

The grizzled older hunter had pulled the pocket doors closed so the younger Winchester wouldn't hear. "Castiel was here to say that Sam's mind might snap back once he's had more chance to feel safe but you'll have to be there for him either way," he warned, noticing that Dean was still favoring his right side. "You wanna talk, Dean? I know you got most of those by the human element involved but that shoulder…just what the hell happened?"

"They wanted to break us emotionally by making us, since I'm guessing Sammy went through the same crap, see the bad and the worst things…some real and some not so much," Dean muttered, running his left hand through his hair. "I went from Lisa's house to my burning house with my Mother in my face though I've changed my mind about killer clowns."

Listening to Dean explain what he remembered, Bobby's anger toward the Campbell family grew again. Making the boys, either of them, face their worst nightmares was one thing but to make 'em face their loved ones or each other would have been worse.

"Sammy…" Dean shook his head. "They tried to make me see a version of Sam that had turned on me but in the end, he saved my life. He helped me and I owe it to that to get Sam through this. I can get him back, Bobby because he didn't ask for this. He trusted me to protect him like I always said I would but I knew from the moment I found him in there that he'd suffered through something that hurt him. He came back after what they did to him before…he'll come back this time."

Listening to the oldest Winchester, Bobby could tell the boy was convincing himself of that because it was something that Dean needed to believe in. "A lot happened this time that we don't know about, Dean," he reminded him grimly, knowing what he and Rufus had saw in that room. Also, what he saw while treating the wounds…things that he wouldn't tell Dean about right away.

"You mean that Samuel probably turned his sadistic sons of bitches loose on Sam like he did when they hurt him a year ago?" Dean replied, eyes wanting to close but knowing he needed to check on Sam first. "Or that he was totally aware physically and mentally of his surroundings even while he couldn't move to protect himself as he was forced to relive crap that never should've happened?"

"Dean," Bobby heard the unspoken anger in the boy's voice and knew that someone would eventually pay for Sam's injuries and pain and pay dearly. "You can't protect Sam all the damn time. I've told you that before. He's not a kid anymore and no one could've seen this…"

"I knew there was something wrong, Bobby and I should've listened to my gut when it said not to leave him," Dean argued, pushing back up in order to go find Sam. "Samuel and the Campbells set my nerves on edge but hell, not even I thought the old man would pull this crap or for this reason."

Not knowing what to say to ease his guilt since Bobby was well aware that Dean had been living on guilt since he'd been a boy, he just chose to wait to see how the brothers would handle this latest curve in their lives.

Stepping into the living room which was rarely used and even now felt more formal than the warmer feel that the library had, Dean's gaze was drawn to the large seven-foot fully decorated Christmas tree sitting in front of the double windows. "Who are you and what did you do with my grumpy pal?"

"Oh, stick a sock in it, ya damn idjit," Bobby growled while waving off the idea that he'd gone out of his way to get a tree for the boys despite his original refusal to have the messy thing in his house. "Jodi, I mean Sheriff Mills, dropped this thing off because it was the last one old man Tibbit had on his tree farm and she hated to see it left behind."

"So she just happened to drop off the very tree that I'd been looking at to get for Sam when I got back from Lisa's?" Dean's eyebrows rose when something else drew him to the tree. "God, I haven't seen these since Sam left for college," he murmured, lifting a small handmade ornament and recognizing it as one his brother had made shortly after starting school. "I thought Dad had…"

"John dropped a lot of stuff off that year," Bobby remarked, watching as Dean slowly took in each ornament that he and his brother had ever made as children. "He said he didn't want this stuff bangin' around in the Impala getting' broke so he left it here."

Dean noticed a small angel that he'd made in first grade hanging by a soccer ball that Sam had made John when he noticed a head of floppy brown hair curled next to the tree by the burning fireplace with the puppy curled beside him.

Kneeling down, he lightly carded fingers through his brother's hair and was rewarded with a sleepy murmur and sleep filled eyes. "Hey, little brother," he smiled gently, not moving his hand from where it rested on Sam's neck. "You feelin' better?"

"My hand hurts and I feel sorta bad all over but Uncle Bobby said I'll get better," Sam yawned, opening his good hand to show the amulet he still held. "You want this back now?"

Lightly running a finger over the amulet, Dean remembered placing the amulet in his brother's hand in that place and knowing that shortly after finding Sam in that warehouse his brother had clung to the amulet as much as he had Dean. "Nah, you hang onto it for me for a little while," he replied carefully, fighting not to groan as he sat beside Sam on the floor. "Sammy, we need to talk about something."

"What?" Sam shivered despite being close to a roaring fire, scooting closer to his brother on instinct. "I do something wrong? Is that why Dad's not calling?" he asked, biting his lip. "I tried to call Pastor Jim but…"

Hearing Bobby groan, Dean shot the older man a look before focusing on Sam. "No, Sam, you didn't do anything wrong and Dad…Dad's just busy but he'll be here soon," he promised, still amazed at how easy that lie came to him even after all these years. "Sammy…" he stopped when those same big eyes that he'd grown up with just gazed at him with an innocence that he hadn't seen in years.

He'd often thought, hell he'd prayed more than he liked, that Sam could be given another chance at having that innocence again but…he wasn't sure if this was the right way to go about it. He didn't want his brother back like this because how will Sam react once he has to be told that their Father has been dead for six years?

Leaning back against the worn out sofa, Dean stretched his legs out in front of him while carefully placing the leather jacket over Sam. "Do you remember Flagstaff, Sam?" he asked easily, surprised to feel a slight jerk in the body next to him as his brother moved from his position by the fire to up against Dean's left side as if knowing his right side had the worst injuries.

"I…I think we stayed there one time," his voice dropped in the way that Dean knew meant Sam was uneasy while his hand tightened around the amulet but then he noticed the jacket. "This is your…Dad's jacket."

When Sam had been eight, the leather jacket had still been John's so that small slip gave Dean hope that it wasn't too late. "I told you before I left for Lisa's that you could wear the jacket, Sammy," he reminded the younger man, feeling if not seeing Bobby tense. "How'd you hurt your hand, Sam?"

"How'd you hurt your shoulder?" he countered in that way that Sam had when he wanted to avoid questions. "Dad'll be mad when he comes…home and…" he slowly trailed off as if thinking about something but then blinked. "De'n, you aren't leaving, are you?"

The tone warned him that something had clicked but he wasn't sure what yet. "Why would I leave, Sam?" Dean countered, wanting to wince against the pain that shot through his ribs as Sam's arms latched on tightly. "You know that I'm always there for you."

"Not always," came the bitter retort and with a surprising agility, Sam pushed to his feet to begin to roam restlessly. "You leave, Dad leaves and…or…"

"I leave and you get hurt," Dean finished, easing up while trying to not use his right arm when pain suddenly seared in a deep cut in his side. "Damn."

Bobby had moved to grip Dean's bicep and keep him from falling. "You need to get your butt back in a bed, boy," he declared firmly, noticing that Sam was watching his brother closely before coming near him. "He'll be fine, Sam. Your brother's just as bullheaded as your Dad at times."

"No insults when I'm down, Bobby," Dean muttered, swearing that as soon as he could move his arm without passing out that he'd kill his damn grandfather. "Sammy, listen…I know you're confused right now but…"

"I don' want you to go," Sam suddenly said, fear in his voice when he grabbed for his brother's arm. "I know I deserve it but…I'll be good, just don' go."

Batting Bobby away, Dean was able to grab onto Sam before his upset little brother could run from the room. "Sam, Bobby's just talking about going upstairs or hell, crashing on the couch, not going to Cali…not going to Flor…damn, has there been a damn state where nothing bad happened to us?"

"You're a Winchester so I doubt it," Bobby muttered, not liking the panic that he saw forming in the younger boy. "You both should be in bed so what say you hightail it upstairs to your room while Rufus and I grab that featherbrain you call an Angel and…"

"No!" Sam's shout took both men off guard as he grabbed for Dean's arm. "Just you, Dean! Don' wan' nobody else. No Angels…just…please don't…"

At a complete loss to what could have caused this reaction, Dean stared blankly until the terror got through and he caught Sam in his arms to keep him still, easing down on the sofa. "Sammy, tell me what's wrong," he urged, not liking the sudden warmth coming off his brother's cheeks.

"Nightmares, De'," Sam whispered, burying his face against his brother's neck to avoid the burning images in his mind that had been chasing him. "Keep seeing…flames, black eyed people…Angels…I see Dad but not Dad and…you…why would Daddy hurt you so bad, De?"

Swallowing the lump, Dean shot Bobby a concerned look while he tried to soothe. "Sammy, you're fevered again. You need to let Bobby check your wounds or…"

"You," his brother's eyes were closed and when did open his eyes all Dean saw were the blown pupils of a feverish Sammy and his own pain was forgotten. "Please."

When he carded his fingers through Sam's hair, he felt it soaking wet with sweat. "Upstairs, Sammy," he urged gently, getting the boy to his feet was one thing but controlling a feverish, 6'4" young brother who had always liked to cling when sick, hurt or drunk to get him up the steps to the bedroom would be another matter entirely. "I'll check you out upstairs."

Waiting until he got a nod, Dean's left arm was firm around his brother while he shot Bobby a dark look. "Find Cas," he hissed.

It took Dean close to ten minutes to maneuver Sam upstairs and then another twenty to get most of his clothes off just to check the wounds. "Damn, I'm glad Bobby never insisted on this many layers when we were kids or I'd've never gotten you dressed or undressed," he muttered under his breath, pushing his brother back on the bed before he could make a break for the door again.

Dean had dealt with the bulky outer layer of clothes before fighting with Sam to remove the hoodie that had become his favorite since his brother had bought it and then came the two thinner layer of clothes until he finally came to the first layer of deep purplish bruises that marred his brother's skin.

"Uh-huh, you're staying put while I check this…" Dean had placed a hand on Sam's chest to keep him still when his eyes turned hard.

He had remembered the brand and the many wounds he had seen that night but as he shifted Sam onto his side to check his back he caught site of the small of his back and a reopened wound that he had barely gotten to heal the first damn time. This time, the wound seemed different. It was made larger to extend more up his back while a small round taser like burn was deeply infected on the base of his neck.

"De?" jerking at the touch, Sam seemed to tense at the hand that ran up his back. "No…don't…won' let you…" he was trembling, voice shaking as badly as he seemed to be. "Sa…Samuel…no…Dad, wan' Dean…Lee hurt and…_nnnooo_!"

The scream tore from Sam's throat and the only thing that warned Dean that a blow would be coming next was how his body curled and his fists clenched.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled, grabbing the fist before it could connect when his suddenly violent brother bucked hard to twist free of what he felt as hands restraining him but it was the screams that once again tore at him. "Damn it, Sam, it's me! Dean!"

"No, Dean's gone…he went away…I was bad and he…" Sam strained to get free but his brother's grip kept him still as Bobby and Rufus ran in. "Dad, don't let him…Lee…Samuel, why…I…" he struggled while the words came out as broken sobs until… "_DEAN!_"

Jaw tight with suppressed rage and emotions he'd rather not show at all making his voice husky as he swore, pulling Sam up off the bed and into his arms to keep him still and hopefully ground him in whatever reality he could until he calmed down some.

"Shhh, Sammy, it's fine," he whispered, wanting to rub the usual circles or signals against his brother's back or shoulder but was worried that the calming touch would upset him more. "It's Dean, little brother. I'm with you and you're gonna be fine. No one is going to hurt you or touch you again or…I'll feed 'em their damn lungs," he finished. letting his eyes close in order to shield the pain from both his brother and the older hunters when slowly the strangled sobs became soft cried against his chest and he automatically began to rock. "It's alright, Sammy. Big brother's here and I swear that I'm not leaving again."

Fighting back the tears that wanted to come, Dean looked up at the rustle of feathers and two fingers touching Sam's forehead immediately eased his brother into a more peaceful sleep. "I told you never to do that to him."

"Sam's emotions were increasing in ways that would make his situation worse so I decided sleep would be best," Castiel spoke grimly, taking in Dean's appearance and seeing both the physical and emotional pain he was burying. "You asked for me?"

Nodding, Dean slowly eased away from his little brother to stand; his eyes sliding over Sam's exposed back as the younger hunter curled himself into a ball, the amulet hanging loose from a clenched fist and only a constant touch on either his shoulder or neck seemed to be keeping him still if not remotely calm.

"He's scared of Angels, got a reason or should I just Holy Oil your damn ass now?" he demanded, keeping his voice low despite the anger bubbling in his chest. "What the hell happened to us, to him, while we were in that place and did you know about that bastard?" it was clear that he was aiming both questions at different people.

Castiel's face remained impassive while Bobby's eyes seemed to find the ceiling interesting but if there was one thing that Dean Winchester was it was stubborn and he wasn't letting either Angel or mentor off the hook now.

"Bobby? You and Rufus were there. I don't give a crap about me because I'll take what they dish out but I want to know what they did to my brother. I want to know what he saw, before in Lawrence and now, that makes him think I'm either gone or that I'll leave him," he stated, then pinned Bobby with a darker glance. "You can also tell me what you know about Lee Stanton and that my Father had damn well better have really dealt with him or else you're gonna tell me where he is so I can."

Rufus was watching this scene because the young man's tone was taking on a harder edge as it had some months back after he'd pulled his kid brother out of that hellhole of a warehouse. "Lee Stanton?" he repeated the name like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "Never met the asshole but I've heard about him," he figured Bobby could cuss him out later but right now he wanted the kid's focus switched. "Didn't I hear that he screwed up on a job down South and got himself killed?" the query was aimed at Bobby but it was clear that he wasn't really asking. "Heard he got himself ate by some swamp monster cause ain't no one ever found his body and that's going on eight or nine years."

"Dean, this went down during that time after your Daddy and I had that last falling out," Bobby sighed, looking between the brothers to see the elder Winchester's fingers had yet to stop their soothing motion over his brother's hair even though the eyes were dead serious. "Caleb called me one day. He said that John had shown up on his door bleedin' like a stuck pig and muttering about the stupid no good son of a bitch got what he had comin' to him," he paused to recall that phone call. "He said that John looked pretty shaken and when John asked him to help dispose of the body he knew why. John, I guess, did some number on Stanton for whatever reason and Caleb helped him get rid of the body so yeah, he's dead."

Seeming satisfied with that for the moment, the young hunter switched focus to Castiel. "I know Raphael had his ass involved in whatever the hell this was but what I want from you right now is for you to show me what he's seen."

"Dean, no," the Angel actually frowned, the gaze of his vessel going between the Winchesters. "Sam will be traumatized enough if he comes out of this state without knowing that you've learned things that he would not want you to know," he replied. "It's why he never told you about the nightmares that he's continued to have or the remnants of the visions that the Djinn poison made him see. Sam was afraid and…"

"If you knew about these 'nightmares' you should've told me, Cas," Dean snapped, not believing this. "After all the crap we've dealt with together, Cas…you should've known to tell me if Sam was keeping stuff inside to 'protect' me. It's my damn job to protect him, not the other way around."

"Sam has been made to believe that you stay out of some misbegotten sense of loyalty or guilt. The world he was kept in for a year showed him the worst of realities. It showed him your life without him, how happy you were without him and it also showed him…how bad you had it with him," Castiel was grim, seeing how tight Sam's face was becoming in his sleep. "This time, he fought the images with as much help as could be given but…toward the end they found a weakness that was hard to fight and along with the extra drugs, the injuries, and his already weakened state, Sam's mind was too open so to protect himself and you, he's pushed his mind deeper into his subconscious."

Not liking how that sounded or the way Dean tensed, Bobby slapped their resident Angel in the back of the head like he often did the boys. "So, you sayin' that his mind can come out of this whole again or what?"

"I'm saying that if Sam's mind heals from the damage inflicted and the shock and fear that he may emerge whole again," Castiel's tone didn't leave any of the hunters leaping for joy especially when he chose to add. "However, it may take decades for that to happen."

"That's super," Dean muttered sarcastically, turning to stalk to the window to watch the lights of the decorations he and Sam had put up shine on the snow. "So, he'll be eight years old in his damn mind for however long it takes me to convince him that it's safe?"

Castiel seemed to frown which was always a bad sign when he used a purely human gesture. "Safe is a relative human term, Dean," he commented. "Sam will never be fully safe while your grandfather is still out there and so long as he has access to the type of drug he used on Sam this time. It was only luck that you got him some of the antidote or he probably would be worse off than…what?"

"We never gave him anything," Bobby replied after checking with Rufus and getting a nod. "What kind of drug you talkin' about?"

"Slow acting, very painful. It would have slowly destroyed him from the inside without the antidote but if you didn't give it to him then…" Castiel seemed to consider things before nodding. "I suppose it's possible that somehow in that place one of the…help might've given him enough of it to keep him alive but it is possible that he will have physical aftereffects from that drug."

Dean's reflection showed the briefest flash of emotion before he buried it, turning. "Show me what he saw," he ordered simply, not asking this time. "If you don't want to show me what they did to Sammy then show me what he's been seeing. Show me, Cas!" he shouted when the Angel seemed to hesitate.

Exchanging a grim look with Bobby, who could only shrug, Castiel finally placed a hand on Sam's tense brow before reaching to lay his other on Dean's with only a mild warning. "This will hurt…"

"Whoa, hurt? Hurt who?" Dean started to ask when he was deluged with images, memories, and emotions from his little brother.

Even though he could tell that either Castiel or Sam himself was keeping the more violent images away, he saw his brother shortly after he was returned from the Cage. How broke and frightened he was and how the Campbells easily could manipulate his emotions. A boy who had always longed for a normal family determined to protect the family he did have, the brother he wanted, had been easy pickings for Samuel's schemes.

Much of Sam's memories would only show themselves in shadows but Dean didn't need images when he could feel the fear, the pain, the shame, and betrayal that his brother felt and then came the pain of his imprisonment for a year at the hands of the 'shifter and…

"Anything in here valuable?" Rufus wanted to know when he saw the way Dean's face was tightening, the vein that had begun to pound in his forehead and the way his fists had balled as if ready for violence.

"Dean…" Bobby wanted to step forward but something in the older Winchester brother's expression warned him not to.

Green eyes hard, Dean gazed at his sleeping brother and those hard eyes softened a little. "God, Sammy, why haven't you told me?" he asked the air, kneeling beside the bed to soothe when Sam moaned in his sleep, twisting restlessly but it was the softly mumbled words that reminded Dean of why he hated people.

He had always figured that between the 'shifter, Michael and Lucifer that Sam had been made to relive his worst moments, along with probably a few of Dean's worst times. He hadn't counted on all the memories that Sam had hidden from him and it were those that made his stomach turn, his blood run to ice, and his anger spill dangerously close to the surface.

"Sammy," he whispered, carding his fingers through his brother's hair and over his face, feeling tears that Sam had again cried in his sleep. "It's okay, Sammy," he promised, taking the amulet that was hanging loose and squeezing shaking fingers around it while he laid his leather jacket over his brother. "You sleep, little brother. I'll…I'll be back."

Pushing to his feet, his hand stroked one final time down a trembling shoulder before grabbing the Angel by the front of his trench coat to yank him to within an inch of his face. "You make damn sure he sleeps peacefully tonight, Cas. Give Sammy at least tonight without the dreams, the freakin' nightmares or memories that are tingling at the surface," he growled, wanting to stay by his brother but also knowing that he needed out for a while too.

"Dean, you need to get sleep too," Bobby tried to advise but rolled his eyes and muttered about stubborn idjits even as a fist suddenly flew into the hall wall. "Hey! You put holes in my house, boy, and you'll be fixin' them!"

"It didn't a genuis to know that damn 'shifter had tortured Sammy last year while he had him and I knew other crap had happened that he wasn't ready to share yet but to find out that Samuel's people had done most of the crap to him…" he kept seeing his brother as he'd found him a few months ago, chained to a bed in that warehouse in filth.

To know that people who should have been family had done that to his little brother on top of things that had he known he would have made certain Christian died much more painfully and certainly knew some of the fear and shame that he had made Sam know.

"Dean, your brother wouldn't have told you any of that because Sam's a proud boy, always was, and he has always wanted you to be proud of him," Bobby remarked, laying a hand out but frowned when the shoulder he'd meant to touch jerked away and the boy whirled.

"I've always been proud of him, Bobby!" Dean snapped, wincing at the sharp warning look the older man shot him and struggled to lower his voice so he didn't wake his brother. "Damn it, you know that I've been proud of that kid since he learned to walk but I'm supposed to be the one to protect him. People hurt my brother, I make 'em bleed. That's the way it's always been and the way it'll be until I'm dead!"

Stalking the hall in long strides that warned Bobby the best thing to do was to just let the boy rant for a little while…or until he said something the older hunter didn't approve of.

"I've protected him since he was a baby. I never doubted or hated anything that I might've had to give up to raise Sammy despite what he was showed anything that happened in my life, I let happen," Dean growled, whirling to pin his friend with vivid eyes. "You had damn well better not have known about any of those times that Dad lit into him. I worked damn hard deflecting Dad's anger away from Sammy. Did you know?" he demanded. "Did you ever see Sam hurt? Did you ever see our Dad lay a finger on him?"

"Dean, you know damn good and well how John and I got along over his treatment of you boys," Bobby snorted, seeing those eyes narrow. "I suspected a couple times that John and Sam had been fighting. The first was one time you'd been put in the hospital when a hunt went wrong. Your Dad blamed Sam and by the time I cleaned up the hunt and got to the hospital your brother had a few bruises he couldn't explain but if I pushed the boy got panicked so I dropped it," he admitted warily, seeing the fire in the young man's eyes. "The other was right before Sam turned sixteen. He and John were fighting while you were with Caleb and Jim. That's when something happened to make Sam run to you and your Daddy was furious."

Dean recalled that image well since he doubted if he'd get the vision of his little brother huddled in the filthy bathroom out of his head. "Yeah, Dad's pal, Stanton, he took Sam out for his birthday, got him drunk, drugged him and…" the words faltered, refusing to say them aloud when his little brother was sleeping so close. "I didn't see the actual…attack but I saw Sam afterward and it all made sense why he showed up like he did and…" a long pause before this fist did sink into the wall with a loud curse. "_Sonuvabitch_."

"You wake Sam up and I'll pound your damn skull in, ya idjit," Bobby hissed. "Dean, you can't keep blaming yourself for this. Sam wouldn't want you to blame yourself for either this attack or his injuries or…"

"I'm his brother, Bobby!" came the bitter retort, voice raising slightly. "I swore to him when he was a baby that I'd protect him and I promised him before I left him this time that things would be fine. I let him be tortured by those bastards! I let them put a brand on him! I didn't protect him when they shoved a goddamn tube down his throat again or hooked that IV up to him again or…"

Bobby had finally had enough. He grabbed the elder brother by his arm, hauling him away from their shared bedroom so the yelling that was to come didn't wake Sam. "You were trussed up just as much as Sam, Dean!" he reminded loudly, refusing his basic urge to slap the sense into this boy. "You were trapped in your own nightmares so how'd ya plan to help your brother?"

"It was me Samuel wanted to hurt so he should've just went after me. They didn't need to hurt Sammy," Dean argued in a strained voice. "Hell, I can take what they do to me but don't hurt my brother. I'm the one who went back in time, I'm the one who stirred all that up and…"

"Boy, you ain't stupid. You gotta know that old man sealed his family's fate when he made his own damn deal to get rid of John even before he married your Mom," Bobby argued, hearing a sound from the bedroom. "Dean, you're too angry to…"

Ignoring him, Dean headed back to the room he and Sam had always shared to see that Castiel had vanished again and Sam was twisting in his sleep. "I'm going to smack him the next time he shows up," he promised softly, sitting beside his uneasy sibling to place a gentle hand on the shoulder closest to him.

"Nooo," Sam whimpered, his hands moving as if her were reaching were something or someone. "Dad…don' wanna…don' want De'n to…"

Face tightening while he struggled to bury the emotions his brother's whimpers were causing in him, Dean lightly squeezed to reassure the sleeping young man. "Shhh, I'm right here, Sammy. I'm not leaving you and I'm not failing you again either."

"Dean, you ain't never failed Sam," Bobby growled lowly, feeling the urge to smack the older Winchester again or slam his own head into a brick wall for dealing with stubborn idjits. "Your Daddy failed you both plenty of times but you've never failed him, Dean."

Shifting on the bed so that he could turn an unbelieving look on Bobby, Dean made a face that was part smirk and part disgust. "All I've ever done is fail him, Bobby," he argued bitterly. "I couldn't give him the normal life that he wanted as a kid even though I did everything I could to make it as normal as possible. I couldn't protect him from the life that I knew Dad was getting us into because I sure as hell never wanted my baby brother turned into a damn hunter. I accepted that my life was forfeit and gave it up to Dad's plans but I never wanted Sam brought into it, Bobby. I tried to keep him safe from when Dad got angry. Hell, I'd get into Dad's face if I knew he was angry with Sammy just to deflect the rage offa him. I didn't give a crap about the beatings I took so long as I knew that he never put a hand on my brother. Now I find out that maybe I failed at that too."

Bobby motioned Rufus back a step, knowing that it was exhaustion, pain, and worry that had loosened Dean's tongue since he was damn certain that under normal circumstances he wouldn't be this talkative. "You were a kid. Jim and I should've been watching…"

"I was his brother!" Dean repeated more strongly this time. "I was four years old when I swore to him that I would always keep him safe. I raised him. It was my job to protect him from every goddamn thing. From the monsters in his closet that Dad merely gave him a .45 to fight, to the darkness that got so deep in Dad that he forgot he had sons and not soldiers, to every goddamn thing else that tried to hurt him. I couldn't protect him from the crap that went on behind my back. When Dad would send me out alone or with Caleb or after Sam went to school. Hell, I couldn't even protect him when I got him back!" he heard his own voice raise, rubbing a shaking hand down his weary face to stand. "I've let everyone use him. Dad, demons, Angels, the goddamn Devil and now a guy who should've been family to Sam. You can rationalize it all you want, Bobby but in the end it'll always be my damn fault what happens to Sam because I didn't do what I should've when he was thirteen. I didn't take him and run the night I threatened to put a .45 caliber round in my Father's heart if he ever went to hurt Sam. Anything after that, is on my head."

Giving his brother's shoulder a final touch to ease the trembling, Dean walked out of the bedroom to leave the two older hunters to stare after him.

"Damn," Rufus finally spoke with a shake of his head. "Kid got guilt much?"

Bobby growled under his breath and Rufus was pretty certain that if he could get John Winchester in his sights that a shotgun would be going off.

The sound of something crashing outside soon had them hurrying to see what Dean was destroying in his dark mood and neither noticed the change in Sam's breathing or the silent tears that fell when hazel eyes opened to slits after hearing the last of his brother's broken confession.

"Y'know, I told you once that I didn't think anyone could get more intense or moody than you with a sharp object in your hands," Gabriel spoke from the corner of the room after he'd decided it was safe to become more than shadow and air. "I was wrong yet again. That brother of yours is scary intense when he's got the whole guilt/anger/big brother failing thing going on, Sammy-boy."

Sam had been awake for a while, listening to his brother and hearing the pain in his voice. His scattered minds didn't understand a lot of what was said even though he knew that he should. He also knew that it was partly because of this that Dean was hurting right now. Whatever had hurt him this time, whatever had messed things up, had hurt his brother because Sam understood that something else was wrong with him.

He also knew that he should know this candy bar eating man who was now standing and watching him curiously but the only images that came were of Dean dying repeatedly and of…

"I didn't yank you outta the Cage with my brothers just so you could end up like this, kiddo," Gabriel remarked, plopping down on the bottom of the bed with ease but winced as another sound came. "Guess Singer won't have to gripe about those decorations you and Dean put up if your brother keeps destroying them."

Watching the man warily, Sam's fingers tightened on his brother's jacket and looked down automatically at it. Memories of another time when Dean let him cling to this entering his mind and making him begin to sweat as he tensed in fear of the memories, of feeling the straps, of feeling…

"I wish I could wipe the bad crap outta that giant brain, Sam, but it wouldn't help," Gabriel told him seriously. "You know who you are, you know that you're not eight. You know Dean, you know about the year you lost after I dragged you out of the Cage…I really need to slap Cas for lettin' that happen, and you know about what happened to you this time. You just need to reconnect with your brain cause right now it's on vacation and it's time you came back before Dean goes and does something more than stupid."

Blinking, Sam could have asked what that meant but the terror at remembering his nightmares made him shake. "I don't want…" he started to say when something else came to him. "Dean?"

"Kiddo, if you were a whole boy right now and could remember Florida, the rage you felt at me is nothing to what's building in your big brother," Gabriel replied, popping the last bit of candy into his mouth. "Dean's planning on something that's going to blow up in his face if he goes after Campbell right now so it's time you woke your butt up and give him the little brother puppy dog eyes that can keep him grounded," he coughed slightly. "You just might not like how I have to do that. Sorry, Sam." he apologized just as he put two fingers to the younger hunter's forehead and then gently eased him down on the bed. "Now, to find out what that damn demon's doing with baldy."

Gasping as breath turned to smoke in the sudden cold, Sam shivered. Forcing his eyes open to find that he was lying in the back seat of the Impala, a frown formed.

He seemed to recall his brother placing him there but those memories were spotty at best. He recalled the attacks, the images, the fears and the knowledge that he'd been drugged again.

Sam could also remember his brother killed Christian but things got darker after that, his memories less coherent except for scattered images and sounds.

Pushing open the door, he eased out of the car to try to figure out where in the hell he was but only saw darkness. The Impala was parked alongside a blacktop road in some heavy trees but nothing else seemed familiar to him.

Wondering if he was dead or if this was the start of his nightmares, Sam took a step but fell against the car when his legs gave out.

"You're still fighting off the drugs," a voice that he knew spoke from beside him but he was slow to turn, not sure if he wanted to see…

"Hey, Sam, we need to talk about…us," his thirteen-year-old self was sitting on the trunk of the car watching him with Sam's own eyes.

**A/N: **_First, sorry for the delay. Real life intruded and this one didn't want to come together. One more chapter should tie it up as Sam struggles to recover his memories and Dean struggles to keep them both going and Bobby…Bobby just wants not to shoot someone by this point. Also, is this the last of Grandpa Campbell? Will he make another move on the boys or has he learned his lesson? I promise, the next update won't take so long._


	13. Chapter 13

**Fears & Dreams**

**Chapter Thirteen**

It took several moments for Sam Winchester to understand finally where he was and then he wasn't certain he cared for the implications.

"This is the hunt where Dean was hurt because I didn't listen and got out of the car," he murmured, seeing his thirteen-year-old-self nod from where he was sitting on the trunk of the Impala. "Y'know, we weren't allowed to sit on the car until…"

"Until Dean started to drive it," young Sam nodded again, his legs swinging as if he were totally at ease. "Dean let us get away with a lot of stuff that Dad would've killed us over. You know why that is right?"

Easing up on the trunk, Sam stared at the bandage on his hand. "He was trying to make up for how Dad made us live," he sighed, knowing this even if he hadn't always made his brother's job easy. "He was…"

"Protecting us," young Sam finished, nudging his current self's shoulder. "Dean took a lot of crap because of us and got nothing but hassles in return, especially when we were this age," he motioned to himself then frowned. "He never stopped though…not even after Stanford."

"Is this Samuel's way of saying that Dean failed?" Sam demanded, feeling the amulet in his good hand. "Dean failed to beat them and he's…that I did get Dean killed in the end or…"

Young Sam rolled his eyes in a way that Sam knew he did and could understand why his brother felt like smacking him when he did it. "No, Dean did not fail. Dean would never fail us," the boy shook his head, turning on the trunk to face Sam. "Dean feels like he failed us though because you got so scared and so beat down in that place that at the end when the pain got so bad you separated your mind. You're safe inside our subconscious while our eight year old self is in control because at eight we still believed in Dad, we still believed that we'd be normal one day even though we had normal already."

Sam was about to snort at that since he didn't call living out of motel rooms normal or never telling the schools the truth about them or transferring to six schools in two months normal but…he had clean clothes every morning before school, he always had breakfast of some sort before school. Usually a hot supper at night…even if he were the only one to eat because Dean had ate at school or work or… "Dean didn't eat," he realized, thinking to what Michael had thrown at him in the Pit. "Dean made sure I always ate or had stuff for school like books or shoes or…"

"Dean made sure we had what we needed. Dean made that hell normal for us," young Sam replied quietly, reaching over to touch the amulet that now laid in Sam's palm. "He gave you this in here so you'd feel safe and you have it now out there for the same reason. You always wanted normal, a family, like the other kids when we already had normal for us. You had Dean and he had you. That's what is normal for us, Sam, but this time…this time…"

"Why shouldn't Dean finally have what he cane have?" Sam countered as he remembered the visions he's seen of his brother's happy life without…without him. "He gave up his childhood for me. How many beatings did he take for me? How much crap did he put up with on account of…"

"He blames himself for this, stupid!" young Sam suddenly screamed, jumping from the trunk to face Sam fully, small fists clenched tightly at his side. "Right now, out there, Dean doesn't give a crap that he's hurt or that his wounds are infected or what they did to him that he hasn't thought of yet…he doesn't care because he's too busy hating himself for failing to protect _US_! He blames himself for not protecting you before when we went into the Cage, for not finding a way to save us and for not knowing that we were in trouble after Samuel threw us to the wolves and we were food for that 'shifter and the Djinns for a year! He blames himself for all of that and right now he's out there falling apart!"

Frowning at the anger his younger self was showing, Sam hissed in pain when it shot through his stomach. "Where…where are we?" he asked, gritting his teeth against the pain but thinking how this pain feels different.

"Uncle Bobby's," his younger self responded, kicking a rock in frustration. "We've back there for a few days but Dean just woke up. He's hurt and scared and he's going to go get himself killed if he's not stopped because he doesn't care. When Dad did whatever Dad did to bring you back Dean was thinking how he wished we could have the life we had before all the nightmares started but he didn't know that you'd separated your mind to be safe from what Mom's family were doing," he explained. "Dean knows that we're still in danger from the Campbells but he doesn't know the danger that he's in. You need to go back, Sam."

"So long as I'm alive Dean will always be in danger," he argued, surprised when he shivered. "If I had never been born Dean would've been safe and Mom and Dad would still be…"

"No, Sam. That's not true."

Whirling, Sam's eyes went white as pain exploded from ribs he didn't know were broke. He had dealt with a lot of images since this mess started but he couldn't figure out where this one had come from. "Pastor Jim?"

Smiling, Jim Murphy approached Sam looking much as he had the last time he had seen the Holy man turned hunter. "I'm not something made to hurt you, Sam." he reassured the boy. "Your younger self was correct. You and Dean are both at Bobby's place…but Sam, how did your brother get that Wendigo into that snowball thing?"

"Huh?" Sam blinked, sure if this was an image used against him that it wouldn't know about that and the sudden memory rush of that early morning decorating spree Dean made against Bobby's house made him nearly cry. He wanted to hear his brother and Bobby bickering again, he wanted to even hear the grizzled old hunter yelling at him over too much sugar, he wanted…he wanted Dean.

"I know you do, son," Pastor Jim had laid a gentle hand on Sam's shoulder. "I know you're still scared, Sam but you need to fight it. You need to fight the pain and the nightmares and go back to your body. If you don't Dean won't survive the night and without him…"

Those words caused the younger Winchester to focus on his Dad's friend. "Dean's stronger than that. He wouldn't do anything to hurt himself because I am still there…just…" he fought for the right word when something in the older man's face made him pause. "You didn't mean that Dean would hurt himself," he murmured. "Something's coming for him, isn't there?"

"Sam, Dean might be a lot of things and God knows I can say that I've seen that boy do some stupid stunts but I never worried about him killing himself….well until this last thing happened with you that is," Pastor Jim remarked seriously. "Y'know, I used to think that John would be the Winchester to drive me insane but I can honestly say that if I was still alive you and Dean would've driven me nuts three times over, made me bald, and caused me to drink," he chuckled in a way that reminded Sam of his youth. "I'm surprised Singer hasn't pulled his beard out yet over the two of you."

Sam leaned against the car, still unsure about this. "Why am I seeing you?" he asked warily. "Why not my parents or my brother or…"

"Because I'm not an image, Sam and considering how you and Dean react to Angels, it was thought that it might be better if you were approached by someone you actually knew," Pastor Jim replied gently, understanding the boy's fear after what he's endured.

"Most Angels want us as dead as the demons do these days so yeah, I'm a little worried since Raphael was there when…" Sam stopped talking, narrowing his eyes. "Tell me something only you'd know about us," he suddenly decided, needing proof.

Not surprised by this move, Pastor Jim leaned against the bumper of the car that he recalled driving up to his place more than once. "I can tell you two things but the second one you'll have to ask your brother about," he responded carefully, knowing the boy was watching him from the corner of his eye in a way that Sam had always done. "The first time I realized who it was that was really raising you was when John had dropped you and Dean off with me in Blue Earth one day. It wasn't all that long after meeting him so Dean hadn't fully started to talk again," he paused in consideration but knew when he had the boy's attention. "John had gone off with Bobby and had left you boys with me. You were probably only eight months at the time so you were still pretty small. The night after John left, I woke up when you started crying so I had gone to get your bottle but found Dean already downstairs getting it. I watched him get it ready and then followed him back upstairs where I waited to see what he'd do. Dean crawled up on the bed, took you in his lap and gave you the bottle. He was four and he fed you with more ease than I had seen John do it."

The former Holy Man shook his head wryly. "Every time you boys would visit, it was Dean who had assumed more responsibility for you. It was Dean who I watched teach you to walk, to talk, to write your name. It was your brother who would read to you at night even though John was downstairs with me. I'm not saying that John didn't love you boys, Sam but…it was Dean who gave who the home you had and that's why I kick myself for what I did when you were thirteen."

"What?" Sam stared at him, noticing that his younger self had vanished so that it was just him and Pastor Jim left but he was also noticing the pain that was coming and going now too. "What do you mean? Dean was seventeen then…"

Running a hand around to the back of his neck, Pastor Jim took his time before facing the young man. "You'll have to talk to Dean about this to verify it, Sam because you won't remember…hell, it was the maddest I'd ever seen your brother except for the night you showed up after turning sixteen…Sam," he held up a hand when the young hunter's body went rigid. "I don't know the whole story since Dean wouldn't give me the full version and John refused to even talk about it but one night around two in the morning I heard the Impala coming up the road to my place. That wasn't odd since I always got visitors at odd hours but what warned me that something was off was when I didn't get the usual pounding on the door," he hesitated again as if gauging how much he should tell. "I finally went out to find Dean kneeling next to the passenger door. When I went closer, he pulled that damn .45 he always carried and I wasn't sure what worried me more; the gun, the look in his eyes or the fact that you were passed out in the front seat."

Sam's frown grew deeper as he fought to remember this event but nothing came. He would have remembered Dean taking him to Pastor Jim's but this just wasn't coming to him easily. There were few times the year he was thirteen that he'd been hurt bad enough that Dean would've needed outside help for him or…he stopped as something hit him. "Oh," he whispered.

"It took me five minutes to get Dean to let me come close to you and all he'd tell me was that he'd had enough. That he didn't give a crap about himself but he wasn't having it happen to you so he was taking you and leaving. John could go to hell but he wasn't taking you back," Pastor Jim shook his head sadly. "I'd known that John and Dean had been having issues for the last few years back then. Hell, Bobby and I had both warned John about his temper and taking it out on Dean but to that point I hadn't given it a thought that he'd started hitting you because I had told John what I'd do if that happened."

He paused to watch the young man, seeing that his face had changed slightly. "Dean was taking you away from John, Sam and I talked him out of it because I honestly believed that your Dad would be worse off without you boys," he sighed. "Maybe if I had helped Dean a lot of what you both went through after could have been avoided."

"Dean…he tried to leave Dad?" that shocked Sam since there were very few times when his father and brother didn't agree on things. "I mean, I know they'd fight sometimes and I know now that Dean took a lot of crap for me but…I never knew that he…" he stopped when something occurred to him. "Dad found us, didn't he?"

"You were pretty banged up so I talked Dean into staying. I thought it best to get it out into the open so when John called to say you boys had vanished I told him you were with me and he came," Pastor Jim admitted. "Dean was furious with me but I tried to tell him that no one was going to let a thirteen year old stay with a seventeen year old and even if he could stay ahead of CPS that eventually John would catch up and it would make things worse. I thought he and John had talked it out. It wasn't until a few days later when Bobby called me to ask what the hell had happened that I figured out that John had waited until he was away from me to take it out on your brother. I never had the chance to tell Dean how sorry I was for that because he would never allow me to bring it up."

Sam remembered waking up at Bobby's and not understanding what had happened. He remembered not listening to his father over something but then nothing else until he woke up at the junkyard. He also vividly recalled, before letting his family know he was awake, seeing his brother's back and not knowing how it had gotten so bruised. Now he understood. Now he knew why Dean and their Dad stayed clear of one another that whole visit and why Bobby had made damn sure never to leave either boy alone with their Father.

"In that place, I saw the day that Dad beat Dean after I'd run away," he told his friend quietly, not liking to remember that image. "I asked that version of Dean why he'd stayed. Why didn't he leave and he said that he stayed…"

"For you," Pastor Jim guessed with an easy smile. "Sam, for as long as I can remember Dean has done what he could to shield you. That includes going to Stanford when John didn't know to check up on you. It wasn't just the time that Caleb found him when Dean was hurt," he told him, seeing the surprise. "The first year you were at school, you got some award for highest achievement or something, didn't you?"

"How'd you…" Sam blinked in surprise but then nodded. "Yeah, it wasn't exactly that but it was a pretty big deal since only the highest percentage in the freshmen class were eligible for it. I was shocked when I won it but…" he dropped his eyes. "I stopped caring about it when I realized that I couldn't call home to tell Dean about it or that he wouldn't be there to see me accept that award…hell, it was just something that burned in the fire when Jess died."

Pastor Jim shook his head, amazed that Bobby hadn't knocked the Winchester's heads together before now. "Ask Dean about the lock box that he keeps buried in the Impala's trunk, Sam," he urged the boy, explaining. "I'd met up with John to hunt a werewolf. Asked him about Dean and he grumbled something about wasting his time so while John was getting some sleep I called your brother. Dean sounded like he'd either been crying or drunk and knowing Dean I didn't discount either option but when I asked he just laughed and said how geeky his little brother looked in a suit and tie. I knew he was in Stanford. He sent me a picture off his phone of you getting your award so don't think that Dean didn't know about it or that he wasn't proud of you, Sam."

"He was there?" Sam was shocked. His normally anti-social, anti-crowd brother had come to see him get that award and then he recalled the unsigned card that had been waiting back at his room. His roommate had just said that it and the newest science fiction book he'd been wanting to buy had been waiting by the door. The card had been a generic congratulation card but carried two hundred dollars inside it, money that Sam had been reluctant to admit that he needed at the time.

He had assumed one of his friends had left both since they knew he'd never ask for the money but now it made sense to him and again he felt his eyes burn.

"Sam, I know you're afraid and it won't be easy since you are hurt and those damn drugs did a number on you this time but you're not a coward because your brother didn't raise you to be one," Pastor Jim's hands were warm as they were placed on Sam's shoulders and he looked up into the misty eyes. "You and Dean are stronger together. He needs you now because that boy is too churned up to see the threat and there are limits to how much interference can happen in the real world."

"I just didn't want him to know about…" Sam bit his lip but the former hunter squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

"Dean loves you too much to be ashamed or disappointed in you, Sam," he assured him, adding with a smile. "If he felt anything like that, he wouldn't have given you the jacket."

Remembering the first time his brother had handed him his beloved leather jacket, Sam had understood what Dean was offering and the emotions it brought out in both of them. "I don't deserve either of them, Jim," he replied quietly, touching the Impala as if it were made of glass. "I want to go home but I'm not sure how. It's like I could hear Dean but now…something's wrong."

"Reach for Dean, Sam," the Pastor replied, not caring for the sound of that. "Think hard on your brother, on every good thing you had with him and wake up but…" he grabbed the boy's arm in a tighter grip. "Watch yourself and take care of both yourself and Dean."

Sam nodded, wanting to apologize for the man's death but the sudden urge to get back to his brother was too strong. Following Pastor Jim's advice, he shut his eyes, ignored the sudden stabbing pain in his gut and thought of his brother.

That wasn't hard since as Sam knew his thoughts had always leaned toward Dean more times than not, even while he was at school. He could be in a class studying philosophy or literature and his thoughts would inexplicably turn to his older brother, wondering what he was doing, or what he was hunting. At night, he would lay awake to replay his childhood when following Dean had been his greatest joy. When wanting to grow up just like his big brother had been his dream…a dream that if Sam was honest with himself he still had.

"Dean?" he whispered, breath catching as pain seared his chest and his injured hand suddenly burned. "Agh!" sitting straight up, Sam gasped while he struggled to bring air into his straining lungs and look around at the same time.

Realizing he was in his bed in the room that he and Dean had always shared, he quickly looked for his brother but found he was alone. Okay, that was alarm bell number one for Sam since he knew Dean hardly ever left him when he was hurt or sick.

That reminded Sam of his injuries, some of which he didn't want to recall but he slowly looked to see the gauze around his injured hand looked too dirty to be fresh and since he wasn't fully dressed he noticed several other bandages that also didn't look too clean which sent alarm bell number two ringing.

Dean, if he was anything, was manic, nearly obsessive, when it came to Sam's injuries. He should've been hovering and bitching to Bobby about changing the gauze every hour. The fact that he hadn't been told Sam two things: either his brother was hurt worse than he let on or something else was bothering him to distract him from the wounds

Pulling himself to the edge of the bed, Sam's eyes caught site of the obviously infected brand on his chest and he shuddered. "Fight it, Sam," he whispered to himself, refusing the fear and nausea that image brought on and doubting he'd ever admit to Dean to being conscious when it had been inflicted. Dean…again his thoughts drifted to where his brother could be when a sound from outside made him try to stand.

"God, this hurts," he groaned, catching the nightstand with his good hand to find that he was clutching his brother's amulet. Looking at it, he fought the emotions back. If Dean had given this to him to hold along with the leather jacket that he'd noticed had been covering him then he'd been in bad shape. It also meant that Dean had basically left himself with nothing as an emotional shield since he'd given both things to Sam. "Damn it, Dean," he hissed, a loud crash this time made him move toward the window.

Straining tired and gritty eyes to see out the frosted window, Sam wiped enough away so that he could see down into the yard. He caught that several of the lawn decorations had been overturned but still glowed and wondered with a dim heart if his brother had done that when something else caught his attention.

The huge spotlights that were scattered throughout the yard had finally illuminated enough that he could see… "Dean."

He saw his brother being tossed hard against the side of the Impala before his attacker grabbed a hold of the young hunter to hurl him into a large pile of junk that Bobby hadn't placed yet, leaving Dean motionless finally.

Sam's hand went flat on the glass but no sound escaped his throat when he caught sight of the light reflecting off something other than the weapon gripped by Samuel Campbell. "No. Dean!" Sam shouted, seeing the weapon raise.

Forgetting his wounds and everything, Sam's hand automatically grabbed for the pearl handled .45 that was laying on his brother's bed and bolted from the bedroom. "Bobby!"

Surprised that his shouts were ignored, Sam took the stairs as fast as his weakened legs would allow him to go, grabbing the banister when he nearly fell and it was then that he caught sight of the puppy laying at the foot of the steps.

"Boo?" frowning, he bent down to lightly touch the pup's fuzzy belly but didn't get the usual face washing as he continued to sleep. "Bobby?" calling for the grumpy hunter, Sam moved toward the kitchen where he found both Bobby and Rufus. "What the hell?"

Both hunters appeared to have fallen asleep at the table except Sam knew better. Something was wrong. Something had trapped his brother outside the house and had made certain that the two men who could have helped him were removed from the game.

"Cas!" Sam shouted, his voice still not as strong and he pushed thoughts of why from his mind knowing he needed to get to his brother. Forgetting the idea of Angelic assistance, he had just touched the door when he heard the single loud shout and felt his heart plummet. "_Dean_!"

**Earlier That Night:**

After threats of physical violence from Bobby had driven Dean from the house, he'd spent a few wasted hours tearing apart a good many of the Christmas decorations he'd put up until the thought that he still had a little brother to enjoy them made him stop.

After fixing the decorations to the best of his abilities, Dean still felt too on edge and angry to go back inside even though Bobby had been out three times to gripe about his own injuries and getting sick if he didn't get his ass back inside.

"Just watch Sammy," he'd replied, ignoring how much he wanted to be with his little brother but knowing until he worked off the anger that he'd be no good to Sam.

So in an effort to do just that, he'd begun to figure out how to install the I-Pod jack attachment thing to the Impala's stereo and hoped he wasn't wasting his time. He wasn't certain if Sam in the state he was in right now would even now what an I-Pod was…hell he still didn't.

"Sorry, baby, but this is for Sammy," he muttered to the car, as he strained to work while ignoring the pulling of recent injuries and how his shoulder wound especially burned. Reaching out blindly to grab the directions that had come in the box, he felt the hair on the back of his neck tickle like it did when danger was close.

Having ignored that feeling once and barely living to regret it, Dean moved a hand to locate his .45 when he remembered that he had left it upstairs in the bedroom. "Shit!" he hissed, beginning to slide out from underneath the dash when he felt the sting of something striking his upper thigh. "What the…"

Grabbing for the stinging spot, Dean's groping fingers located a dart and hurled it away with a harsh oath. "_Sonuvabitch_!"

"You really did pick up your Father's habit of swearing, didn't you, Dean?"

Trying to ignore the way his head was spinning, Dean pulled him out of the car but had to cling to the Impala's door to remain standing when he finally located… "Samuel," he spat the name like a curse, blinking his rapidly to clear them. "What was in the dart?"

"Oh, don't worry. It's not nearly as powerful or as lethal as what we gave your brother," Samuel assured him, stepping closer to swiftly land a hard punch to the younger man's head. "This is just enough of a sedative to keep you off your game because I wouldn't dream of facing you without an advantage."

"Cute, old man," Dean swore when the words slurred and he hoped he could stay conscious at least because if he lost that he was as good as dead. "You come onto Bobby's property to what? Kill me? Kill Sam? You are more stupid…than I gave…you…damn…"

Samuel's fist pounded into his grandson's head again and when Dean lost balance, he grabbed the front of his unzipped jacket to throw him hard into the side of the Impala. "Your friends inside the house won't be saving you this time, Dean. Crowley's made sure of that," he declared coolly, throwing a fist to land hard against Dean's jaw but cursed when the boy moved at the last second on instinct and his fist bounced off the hood. "It's me and you, like it should've been and then…well, I did promise Crowley he could have Sam."

"Over…over my dead body," Dean gritted, fighting to get back to his feet despite the drug burning through his bloodstream and making everything spin violently. "Woulda figured getting beat up by my Mom and Dad woulda toldja something…"

"It told me how sick you are to use my little girl in such a way, boy," Samuel kicked out a leg to catch Dean hard in the knee, grabbing his arm when he fell to hurl him into the car again and then latched onto his jacket to shove him against a pile of junk. "I swore that you'd pay for what you cost me, Dean and now it's not just my Mary but also Christian as well!" he snarled, pulling the pistol from under his jacket.

Barely moving after hitting the junk pile, Dean's head spun while his eyes refused to focus totally even though he could feel his leg again which told him that the drug might be wearing off a little. "You shouldn't have touched my brother," he slurred, fingers managing to grasp the knife that was under his jacket but his vision was still way off so the throw missed Samuel by a mile. "Crap."

"I'd say I'd make it quick Dean but after all the pain you've caused my family I'm afraid quick just isn't going to happen," Samuel replied, aiming the pistol at his grandson while his finger inched toward the trigger. "I figure putting a bullet in each limb to start with will be good for me and before I put one in your head, you can watch Crowley's pals haul your little brother out of here knowing that you will never see him again."

Anger and fear for Sam warred for control in Dean as he fought to move but found that the pile of junk had shifted to trap one leg. Seeing the trigger begin to depress, he strained one final time and had just managed to shift the junk pinning him and twist when the bullet fired.

Dean felt the bullet graze his already injured shoulder as the round barely missed him but in his haste to move he hadn't counted on the rest of the pile moving around him. A part of it caved in as he rolled which allowed a rusted out muffler to strike his temple, causing his already tedious grasp on consciousness to slip when he thought he heard a voice screaming his name.

"No miracle rescues this time, Dean," Samuel bragged, reaiming the pistol at Dean's face. "I'm just going to kill you and be done with it, boy. You're too big a pain in my ass to deal with slow. I'll make sure Sammy knows how you died to protect him."

"No, you…" fighting harder to clear his vision and to get free of the junk holding him helpless, Dean tried to move when movement from behind Samuel caused him to stop. "Sammy…"

"Oh, yes, I'll take good care of your little brother, Dean," Samuel sneered, finger brushing the trigger when he noticed the sudden small, if wary, smile on his eldest grandson's lips. "What? You think this is amusing?"

Having to close his eyes for a brief moment, Dean peeked under half-closed lashes to check again but nope, he was still seeing what he thought he was and for some reason it made him smile. "Nah, being drugged silly and having a gun pointed at my head by my delusional grandfather isn't funny," he admitted in a strained voice, the weight on his chest making breathing a bit hard. "What's funny is that you and your…boss forgot the biggest thing when dealing with us…you deal with one Winchester…"

"You deal with both of us."

Samuel whirled toward the voice, bringing the pistol around to fire but finding nothing to aim at. "What the hell game…" he growled when a sharp elbow suddenly came down on his arm, hitting a nerve which caused him to drop the pistol.

"In other words, stay the hell away from my brother," Sam snapped, using the hilt of the .45 to clip Samuel's jaw but was still too weak and off balance when the older man returned with a sharp upper cut.

Only taking the time to pull on worn sneakers by the door, Sam hadn't considered the cold until he was out in it but pushed that thought away when Samuel's hand grabbed his wrist and knocked the .45 loose before hitting the infected brand on Sam's chest.

Agonizing pain seared and Sam was put off balance, falling to the ground even as Samuel was grabbing for his own weapon. "I'm going to kill both of you bastards and Crowley can deal with it!" he snarled, bringing the pistol up when he lunged for Sam but hit a slick spot on the snowy ground.

"No, you won't," Sam returned softly, ignoring the pain that even seeing Samuel caused him as he rolled at the last second to grab the blade that Dean had thrown. "You aren't hurting either of us again," he promised, managing to get to his feet despite being weak and injured. "You won't hurt me again."

"Don't be so sure of that, boy," Samuel sneered, gaze shifting between the boys and the more he saw of his daughter in them the more enraged he became. "Does Dean know everything, Sam?" he asked softly, seeing the boy flinch. "Gwen and Christian never told him everything that happened to you. I could tell him before I kill him and take you…"

Memories resurfaced but Sam struggled to push them back, knowing he was all that stood between his brother and death. "Go back to hell, bastard," he gritted through clenched teeth, waiting.

"I'll put you both there first!" Samuel's rage made him lose focus when he went to grab for the youngest Winchester. "My Mary will come back to me and…arrgh!"

Sam might not have wanted to be a hunter but he had been trained by the best of them and while Dean had never been able to get him to the proficiency with guns that he had but no one could match his skill with a blade.

A fact that showed when he shifted at the last possible moment of Samuel's lunge to move, an arm sliding around the older man's torso while the hand with the blade slid quickly to cut a large gash across the former hunter's throat.

Stepping back as soon as the cut was finished, Sam let the body drop to the snow; the knife still clenched in his fist while he gazed into the hateful but dying eyes of a man he had actually once considered could be a grandfather.

"My Mother was a hell of a lot better person than you," he whispered, waiting until the final ounce of life had drained from Samuel Campbell to stare at the blood on his hands and the knife when a soft groan recaptured his attention and his panic. "Dean!"

Dropping the knife, Sam bolted to where his older brother laid still pinned by the junk. "Dean? You okay?" he asked quickly, looking for a way to free his brother without causing more junk to fall on him. "Dean!"

Drugged, in shock, and in pain, Dean was wondering if he was just hearing things since he accepted he'd probably been hallucinating the voice until a cold hand weakly gripped his and the panic lacing the other voice got through the fog. "…Sam…?"

"Lie still, Dean," Sam urged quickly, feeling the cold more but not wanting to leave his brother alone even though he felt his head buzzing. "I'll…get you loose and…" he blinked when he noticed that his brother had become two. "No, I won't pass out…" he whispered firmly, looking blearily back to the house. "Dean…so cold…I…"

Managing to free his other hand, Dean was finally able to reach up to grip his brother's neck. "Find…" he hissed as a jagged piece of metal sliced through his jacket. "Sammy?" he saw the boy's eyes roll in his head a moment before he heard the best sound in weeks.

"Goddamn stupid idjits!" Bobby roared as he ran out of the house, took in the scene out in his yard and shouted for a still groggy Rufus to start heating blankets and then come help him.

"…Be okay, Sammy…" Dean whispered, seeing his own breath and hoping he was right while also wondering how his brother's current eight-year-old brain knew how to use a blade but then he slipped under to the grumbling curses of a disgusted Bobby Singer.

**A/N: **_Okay, I was wrong…again. One more chapter to bring our boys back together fully. Lots of brotherly fluff should be coming but probably some angst too since neither of them are good with admitting emotions at times. Plus, what will Santa bring the boys? I tried to get this done for Christmas but fell short. Final update very soon._


	14. Chapter 14

**Fears & Dreams**

**Chapter Fourteen**

**A/N: **_I want to thank everyone who has read Fears & Dreams, who have marked it as a Favorite, and of course those who had reviewed it. All of your wonderful comments mean so much to me. They kept me going when a Chapter might be going wrong or too slow. I certainly apologize for taking so long to finish this one but it grew longer than I had planned. Thanks again and as always, stay tuned for new stories since I have about three planned and a 1-shot that someone asked to see out of this one._

**SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN**

"Stubborn, mule headed, impatient, reckless…idjits! Both of ya are just buckin' to either drive me to the looney bin or make me blow my damn brains out worryin' over ya!"

Bobby Singer's disgruntled and exasperated voice is the first thing that drove past the jackhammers already running rampant in Dean Winchester's brain when consciousness slowly began to return to him. He just hoped someone got the number of the Wendigo that ran him over.

"What's with you and your brother running out into the damn snow and cold with barely anything on?" Bobby was demanding, making noise as he was clearly moving around…

Dean wasn't sure where Bobby was since he honestly wasn't sure where he was and his body ached too much to move to find out right then. He was content to just stay still, listen to Bobby gripe at whoever he was griping at and wonder who the hell beat the crap outta him when another voice intruded in his pounding head. A voice that instantly made Dean pay attention.

"I was kind of in a hurry, Bobby. Dean was about to get shot so putting on a jacket wasn't high on my list of things to do."

"I would've been happy with a damn shirt and jeans, ya idjit!" Bobby shouted back, making a noise like he was messing with the fireplace following his words. "Sam, sit down before ya fall down or I knock you down!"

Sam. His brother's voice forced Dean back to full alertness even if his body just wanted to stay where it was. Memories were coming back now and he needed to wake up.

"You and Rufus were in la-la land so what was I supposed to do? Just let…him blow my brother's brains out?" Sam seemed to falter at saying Samuel's name but he stayed where he'd been standing since waking up.

"Don't you give me lip, boy," Bobby growled, turning to glare at a smirking Rufus. "Don't you go agreeing with him! Dean, you gonna open your eyes or just lie there like a bump on a log?"

Groaning when the loudness seemed to echo more, Dean went to cover his head with an arm only to have his right shoulder explode in agony. "God…what size was the Wendigo that tossed me this time?" he muttered, surprised when his voice was barely a croak but blinked when a bottle of water was shoved into his good hand.

Taking a long drink of cold water made him able to swallow and slowly he came to see that he was on the sofa in the main living room instead of the sofa seat in the library where Bobby usually tossed them. Looking down, he noticed that his button down shirt was missing and the T-shirt had been changed to allow for new dressing on his shoulder and…

His side had new stitches which must have been to close up the small wound he'd gotten from the sharp piece of metal…green eyes shot up suddenly to look squarely at Bobby. "What happened?" he demanded lowly, trying to shift on the couch but found a strong hand easily keeping him still.

"I need new wards or crap around my place is what happened," Bobby growled in disgust, taking a look at the older boy to see that his eyes were clear even if he seemed a little disoriented still. "Somehow Samuel got past my protective wards to get close to you and that damn demon or something cast a spell to knock me and Rufus out."

Slowly Dean remembered the attack, the drugged dart, and getting knocked into a pile of junk. He also remembered something else and it was that memory he struggled to lock onto. "Sam? Bobby where's Sam?" he asked rapidly, struggling to sit up fully when another hand touched his shoulder this time and he jerked his head around to meet cautious hazel eyes that he knew well. "Sammy."

"Hey, Dean," Sam had been staying close to the couch since he woke up, only leaving his brother's side long enough to go take a hot shower and dress before Bobby took a frying pan to his head as he'd threatened.

"Sam, I'm tellin' ya to sit down now!" Bobby snapped, seeing that both brothers still looked half exhausted and he wasn't certain how Sam was anyway since the boy had refused to let himself be looked at while Dean was still unconscious. "I'm not haulin' your butt around anymore this week so if you fall flat on your face again you're on your own!"

Rufus, who was smart enough to steer clear of Bobby in his hyper-protective mode, covered his smirk with a hand but made some comment behind it that had his friend whirling to glare at him. "I'm just saying that you would've made a great nurse, Bobby."

Shuddering at that image, Dean was finally able to sit up on the couch but was quick to grab his brother's wrist before it could retreat. He tugged the younger man around until he was sitting on the other end and he noticed that Sam's body language was off.

Eyeing Bobby from the corner of his eye, the silent questions didn't go unnoticed when all the older man did was shake his head that he wasn't certain.

"Alright, I'm gonna go fix both of you something hot so stay put, keep those blankets on and if I even see one of ya moving toward that front door I'm siccin' the damn mutt on ya!" Bobby growled, giving both Winchesters a warning glare that used to work when they'd been boys.

"Bobby, that damn dog took off yipin' from a spider," Rufus reminded helpfully, yelping when he was yanked out of the living room.

Dean waited until he was certain they were alone before shifting so he could look more closely at his brother and noticed more than a few things.

The first thing he noticed was that Sam had once again taken to wearing that one hoodie that had always been too big on him but it was the he seemed to gravitate to when either sick or scared. Now he was bundled into that along with what seemed to be Dean's oldest button down shirt and he had Dean's leather's jacket bunched in his hands as he sat nearly curled into the opposite end of the sofa.

All of that worried Dean but what tripled his concern was the way his brother's hands were shifting restlessly on the leather but the one kept going into a pocket of the jacket and Dean would've bet money that his amulet was in the pocket.

"You okay, Sammy?" he finally asked, uncertain what the answer would be since when he'd last seen his little brother awake his mental state had been so solid but going by the way he argued with Bobby, Dean was assuming something had changed in that area. "Sam, look at me."

Not moving from where he'd drawn himself up on the sofa, Sam kept his eyes averted. "I'm sorry."

Not certain he'd heard the whispered words correctly, Dean frowned but made himself stay still. No matter how much he wanted to reach out right then he knew that he needed to gauge Sam's emotions to see what ground they were on before he touched him. "Sorry for what, Sammy?" he asked, wincing as he tried to move a little more.

Since waking up fully, Sam's memories had returned had mach 4 speed and had nearly overwhelmed him more than once. Only his concern for his brother had kept him from withdrawing into a shell again but he knew it was only a matter of time before he either crashed and burned or he gave in to the stronger urge to tell Dean everything.

Keeping his eyes locked on his hands while trying to forget the sight of his grandfather's blood on them, Sam just shoved the leather jacket toward his startled older brother. "Your…amulet…it's in the pocket," he told him, adding in a near mumble. "I…I don't deserve to have either."

"Alright, wanna tell me what's brought this on?" Dean questioned curiously, leaving the jacket between them but he did put the amulet back around his neck and was relieved to feel it back where it belonged. "Sammy, look at me," he said it firmer this time, not liking the way his brother was avoiding his gaze. "Sam."

"I got you hurt. I got Bobby shot. I…they…I…" Sam faltered suddenly, memories coming in waves as he pulled his legs up on the sofa. "All because Mom died in my nursery. It's not enough that Angels and Demons want us dead but our own so-called family…and I can't stop the damn memories this time and…"

It was the shaking in his brother's voice that warned Dean that they were on cracked ice. "Is that what you were told in that place?" he asked, moving slowly so that he was closer but not close enough that his brother would feel trapped. "Sammy, you didn't cause this. Hell, if anyone's to blame this time it's me because Samuel blamed me. You were just an easy way to strike out at me," he tried to explain but knowing his brother, Dean figured it would take more than simple words to convince him. "How bad hurt are you?"

"I'm…fine," came the automatic reply even as he was pulling his injured hand closer to his body but soon Sam was pushing off the sofa to begin to pace restlessly, a sure sign that something else was bothering him. "You're hurt."

"What?" Dean scoffed, waving that away with a normal smirk. "You mean my shoulder? Hell, I got worse from those damn rednecks…and I really need to talk to you about that one day, but I'm fine from this," he reassured him. "I've gotten worse than this from…" he cut himself off but knew it was too late when he saw Sam go rigid. "Sammy, don't."

"I asked you why you stayed." Sam's voice was quiet when he spoke, keeping his back to Dean as he stared out the window. "I knew it was an image. That it wasn't you but I still asked why the hell you stayed. Why didn't you leave after he beat the crap outta you because I'd run away and do you want to know what that version of you said, Dean?"

Taking a deep breath, Dean was slow to let it out but when he did, it was filled with resignation. Accepting that to help his brother this time would mean facing some things that he would rather have stayed buried. "I can guess," he admitted slowly, standing fully but not approaching his brother yet.

"He said he stayed for me," Sam's voice was tight with suppressed emotion but the way his fists were clenched gave away his anxiety. "I watched as a version of Dad tossed him around that motel room like a cheap dishrag, slamming him through doors, against the walls and…" he stopped to finally turn to look straight at his brother with wide and wet puppy dog style hazel eyes. "Is that what happened, Dean?" he asked. "Did Dad do all that to you just cause I'd run away?"

Swearing under his breath, it was Dean's turn to avoid his brother's searching gaze as he fought for time to come up with an answer. He's known by the way Sam had been acting since he'd found him again, that more than likely Michael had either told or shown his brother things that Dean did not want him to know. That was one thing. Knowing that Sam had actually seen the damn event in living Technicolor was something else.

"Sammy…" he tried to shrug it off, wave it away as he'd always done but this time his brother wasn't having it.

"Tell me the goddamn truth!" Sam snapped, voice breaking in a way that had always tore Dean's walls to shreds. "Is that why after Dad brought me back you wouldn't look at me? Why you avoided me, why you slept on the couch the first few nights I was back, why you wouldn't come out of the bathroom after a shower until I was already in bed and why, for two damn weeks, you wouldn't let me touch you?" he demanded. "Is it, Dean? Is that really what happened between you and Dad?"

"Yes," Dean finally replied, hearing the sharp breath and wanting to cut off the inevitable questions. "I'd exhausted all my leads or so I thought. Caleb was due in the next day to help me look for you but Dad…he came home early for once and to say he was pissed was an understatement but…" he stopped for a moment to recall the fury in his father's eyes that day. "I figure I know what you were shown and what good ole Michael told you but I need you to know that I never blamed you for it, Sam. I screwed up when I let you give me the slip and I paid for it. I would have gladly let him do it again so long as I knew you were safe so yeah, when that version said he stayed for you, he meant it cause that is why I stayed."

Something about Sam's posture sent a warning through Dean. He'd grown up watching his brother's every move so he'd learned every tell sign in how he stood, how he moved or shifted when upset, sick, afraid, or hiding. He was seeing several of those right now and because of the topic they were on, he didn't like it.

"Sam? There something you want to tell me?" he questioned, keeping his tone light. "I mean, besides everything else that's been going on, is there something else?"

Recalling the words of the other 'Dean', Sam scuffed the toe of his shoe on the worn carpet much like he had done as a kid when avoiding his brother. "He said…he said I had to tell you," he mumbled which again reminded Dean that he seriously needed to break his brother of that habit again. "But it's been so long and you'll just get angry that it's not…"

"Tell me what, Sammy?" this time Dean did step closer but still didn't touch the younger man. Instead he just stepped closer to his side to see that Sam's eyes were closed but there was glistening tears on his cheeks. "Sam?"

"Dad…he…I didn't get off without any punishment for running away, Dean," he replied after a few moments of silence, struggling to remain still and not hide away from both his memories and the anger he was sure was to come. "He just sort of waited until you were gone to…and he didn't hit where you'd see the marks but Dad…"

The sound of knuckles cracking made Sam stop talking. He was fully aware of how close his brother was and a quick sideways glance showed him the muscle tick in Dean's jaw that had always given away his anger but still Dean's gaze seemed calm if a bit too intense.

"Why…why didn't you tell me?" he asked when he was certain his tone would be level and not full of rage at their Father and disgust at himself for thinking that John had let it go.

"When you wouldn't talk to me or come close to me, I thought you hated me too so why would I have told you?" Sam scoffed, finding the bandage on his hand interesting. "Why didn't you hate me?"

Not expecting that question it took Dean a couple seconds to catch up. "I told you, I accepted it for screwing up and it wasn't the first time I'd deflected Dad's anger off of you so…"

"He beat you, Dean," Sam spoke it slowly, intently this time as he felt a chill and shivered. "How many times did you 'deflect' Dad off of me? How many times did he beat you? Like that or the time after you'd taken me to Pastor Jim's and was planning on running away? Dad beat you bad after we were away from Jim, didn't he?"

Dean froze at those words, his green eyes pinning his brother intently. "How'd you find out about that, Sammy?" he asked, voice hushed but confusion strong since he knew his brother shouldn't even have recalled the trip to Blue Earth much less anything else that happened. "You were too sick to even remember going to see Pastor Jim so there's no way that…"

"I saw…Pastor Jim this last time and he told me that I'd have to ask you about the time you and I had showed up at his place and he talked you out of taking me away from Dad," Sam responded, catching the harsh oath his brother threw. "Dean, you never acted like you wanted to get away from Dad so why…"

"I stayed with Dad because he had you, Sam and because I was afraid of what he'd do to himself if someone wasn't there to try to counter him or keep him grounded," Dean sighed, giving a bitter laugh. "There were plenty of times when I could've taken you and left. Hell, there were times when I could've put a damn bullet in his heart like when you turned sixteen."

Expecting the already tense hunter to go rigid, Dean's hand was quick to lay on his brother's shoulder to keep him still when he went to move away. "You're not the only one to see things we both probably wanted to stay buried, Sammy," he remarked, seeing the brief flash of both panic and shame in the boy's eyes. "Sammy, I know that there are things that you've kept from me. Both from when you were a kid to more recent, but you know that if you'd have told me about Stanton when you showed up that night, when Jim called me and Caleb in, that I would've killed him right then and Dad could've gone straight to hell when he showed up, right?"

Turning slowly from the window, Sam finally let his eyes briefly meet Dean's only to look away when he crossed his arms tight as if warding off a chill or…shielding himself. "It was my fault. I was pissed off at you for breaking a promise, Dad was busy on that job he was doing so when he suggested I go out for a pizza with…" he bit his lip rather than say the name which made him sick. "I went but didn't want to."

"Dad…told you to go with Stanton?" Dean gritted his teeth and swore that the next time he saw his father's ghost that he was using rocksalt on the bastard. "The guy was an asshole who I told him you didn't like."

"Allies come in handy," Sam quoted John's words and saw his brother's frown get deeper so he shrugged. "He said pizza. I didn't want to spend another night sulking because you didn't come home like you promised. I mean, I was sixteen and I'd spent the past month telling you that I didn't need you babysitting me all the time. So…I went but when he ended up at the bar…"

His words drifted off as his mind went back. Sam had avoided this memory for years but he accepted that he couldn't keep hiding things from his brother. "I don't know what really happened, Dean. I remember the pizza, I remember him hounding me to drink one damn beer. He laughed, said he wouldn't rat me out to Dad or to my big brother, which made me mad for some reason, and then…things got hazy and I just remember images flashing of a needle in my arm and…" he stopped, turning or trying to except the hand grasping his shoulder kept him still. "I came to on a bed and he was passed out and I…I wanted you…well, I wanted to die first but then I panicked and just ran. I ran until I got to you and I didn't care if you got angry or not cause I just knew that with you I'd be…"

"…Safe," Dean finished tightly, having read between those shaking lines to get the gist of that night and fought to control his own feelings when he finally reached out. "C'mere, Sam," he murmured, pulling the trembling young man against him to finally do what he'd been wanting to since waking up. "It's not your fault, Sammy. Nothing is ever your fault," he promised, gently leading the way back to the sofa so he'd have a stable area for what he knew would be coming.

Ever since he and Bobby had rescued Sam from that warehouse in Lawrence he'd been waiting for the day when the walls his brother had put up to shield himself from the memories of those events would start to crack. Now, with everything that Sam endured this time, he was afraid that those walls were going to do more than crack.

Sam's willingness to talk about being drugged and assaulted by their Dad's friend warned Dean that the walls were being tore down by other memories. He just had to hope that he was able to handle the fallout and keep his little brother safe.

"You could've had a normal life if Mom hadn't had me or if she hadn't died or if…if you would've done what Dad told you to, De'n," Sam's voice was shaking now but what concerned Dean more was the second he heard him shorten his name. "Everyone dies around me, like Jess said. Jess, Madison, Mom, Dad, Jo, Ellen, Ash…you."

"Sam, listen to me," Dean urged, tightening his arm to keep his brother against his chest while he used his other to grab for his jacket and place it around Sam for both warmth and security. "What you saw in that place, it was made to hurt you. To make you doubt just like what the Djinn poison did," he cursed everyone he could think of when he finally felt more than heard the first sob. "Sammy, everything I ever did for you was because I wanted to. I know that Michael showed you the worst crap the douche could think of but if I sacrificed then it was because I wanted to. Not because I was made to or out of guilt or obligation because you were never an obligation to me, little brother."

If Sam was listening, Dean couldn't tell. Something had broken in his brother because that was the only time that Sam truly let his emotions ran free so all Dean could do was sit back on the sofa, settle his brutally sobbing little brother against him and wait it out while he talked about anything that he could think of.

Tucking the jacket tighter around Sam, he felt the hand that suddenly reached up to clutch his amulet and he let his eyes close. "It'll be fine, Sammy," he promised soothingly, carding strong finger through his brother's hair. "I'm right here and you'll never be alone. Not again and no matter what you saw, then or now, I'd never want to be anywhere but with you."

Exhaustion, pain, and memories that he'd been fighting to keep away for months made Sam more emotional than even he liked and knowing how his brother felt about massive chick-flick moments, he struggled for control but nothing would stop the tide now.

"I killed you."

Three words cried brokenly tore into Dean's heart and made his hand shake as they rubbed gently on his brother's upper back and neck. "No, no you didn't, Sammy," he whispered, feeling the younger man grip the amulet tighter while Sam's other hand was clutching Dean's t-shirt for some reassurance that he wasn't dreaming again. "Sam, look up at me. I'm right here, dude. You didn't kill me. You could never kill me…bore me sure but never kill me."

"I did, I killed you. They said so," Sam argued, words broken between sobs that he wasn't even aware of by this point as he remembered too much too fast. "I ripped your heart out. You trusted me and I killed you, De'n. Just like in Stull when you were hurt. I beat, and beat, and beat on you there, I hurt you in the asylum, I…" he stopped to breath but had buried his face against his brother's neck. "I'm no good. I'm dangerous and you need to leave me so that you can have Lisa and Ben and a baby and…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, geek boy!" Dean had finally had enough, pushing Sam back to arm's length or as far as he could move him without strangling himself since his amulet was still clutched in the younger man's fist.

Grabbing Sam's face in both hands, he forced him to meet his eyes and was shocked by the wildness in his brother's hazel eyes. "Sammy! Listen to me!" he made his voice stronger in hopes that the tone would get through to his brother. "First, I am not leaving you ever. I was there with you from the second Mom and Dad brought you home. Except for that little mishap while you went to find yourself at college I will be by your side until we're both old men in the old hunters' home," he promised firmly, moving one hand around to grip the back of Sam's neck in a familiar move. "I made mistakes, Sammy, things I wish to God I could take back and I can't take back your memories of the past year or what you saw this time, but Bobby and I'll be here as we get through it all, alright?"

Blinking wide eyes, it took Sam a moment before he could see his brother but it was something else that entered his mind that started to ease him back into reality. "Pastor Jim…he said you saw me get my first award at Stanford," he spoke, voice quiet after crying for so long and so hard. "He said you were at Stanford."

"Huh," Dean coughed, wondering if he'd have anything left of his macho image after this was over. "Damn, getting killed by Meg sure loosened Jim's tongue, didn't it?" he muttered, sighing when all he got was deep puppy dog eyes. "Yeah, alright. I was in the area, decided to look in on you and…found out about that geeky awards thing that was going on. No big deal, Sam."

Slowly feeling the fingers gripping his neck and recognizing the signals that Dean's fingers were automatically drawing with them, Sam began to relax slightly even though the darker memories were still too close. He wanted to concentrate on his brother before Dean could close off again. "You left the card with the money in it and the book, didn't you?" he asked, feeling his older brother begin to get edgy.

Sam accepted that Dean was great when handling Sam's emotions but he was in no way at ease when having to admit his own. "How'd you know to bring the book? Don't say you picked it up there because none of the stores around Stanford had it in yet. I'd checked."

"Bobby sure is taking long enough with that…alright," he groaned, squeezing his brother's neck just a little harder to get back at Sam for bringing this up when it was Dean who was trying to be the steady one. "I'd only been buying you the damn things since they started coming out so I figured I'd pick that one up in case I was ever in the area. I was…then and well, I figured I should drop a card off since he went all big brain to win an award and all and…"

"Did you play for the money specifically or was it what you had on you that night, Dean?" seeing how uneasy his brother was told Sam that answer. Two hundred dollars was all the money Dean had in his wallet and he'd just put it in a card for Sam. "How pissed did Dad get when you came back broke?"

"Told Dad I lost it in a pool game, smart guy," Dean shot back, keeping his one hand on Sam's neck while he used his other to lift his face back to eye level. "You good now or are do you just want to get all this out now while you have me emotionally weak?"

Sam considered that question. He wasn't good and he knew that. He was barely coping and the second Dean's fingers eased their grip on his neck Sam's fist curled tighter into his brother's shirt. "I can't block out the memories this time, Dean," he murmured, surprised to feel the touch of worn leather being moved so that he could grasp it. "Before they came as nightmares or fleeting images when you weren't around but now, I can't get rid of them. I keep seeing that room, the machines, I can feel the straps and tubes…the wires and…" he jerked unknowingly until a strong hand reached for the one he was grasping the amulet with.

"Sam, I'm gonna be honest with you, little brother, you went through hell this time," Dean told him seriously, being cautious when he eased his brother closer again and hating that his damn right shoulder was keeping him limited on what he could do to help Sam. "Aside from the mental crap in that place, they did a number on you with some other crap. Bobby says you're going to have some bad days coming but hey, that's what awesome big brothers are for after all. To get their pain in the ass little brothers over the hard spots." he paused for a moment. "I don't know what you saw, Sam and…I wish I could take it away from you but all I can do is be there every time we need to do chick flick moments like this one and break the next son of a bitch who comes close to you."

Considering that, the younger Winchester slowly nodded then bit his lip. "Were the images real, Dean?" he asked suddenly. "I mean, the good ones. The ones who seemed to want to help, were they real?"

Remembering the version of his brother that he'd seen and the younger John, Dean could only hope so in some way that they had been real even though he didn't want to figure out how or why. "I think they were, Sammy," he nodded, surprised when his brother eased back so that he was leaning into Dean's left side; a sure sign that Sam still wasn't emotionally healed. "I think that someone was helping us and as much as I hate the thought of it being Gabriel…"

"I killed Samuel, Dean," Sam spoke suddenly, still clutching the amulet around his brother's neck almost without being aware of it. "The Campbells…they'll come…"

"We'll handle it," Dean cut him off, having been thinking the same thing. "Sam, even if you hadn't killed that psycho old man to save me, I would've gone after him eventually for what he did to you," he remarked without a doubt in his mind. "We're gonna have trouble with that family until we figure out what the hell Crowley's up to so for now, let it go. Anyone comes after you, comes after me and with the mood Bobby's in right now, I'll just turn him loose."

His brother could always make him laugh and even with all he'd been through and would probably still go through Sam chuckled at that thought. Then slowly he turned serious. "Did I die again?"

"Damn, little brother, for someone who barely knew his name three days ago you sure are coming up with all the hard ones now," Dean griped but made certain his tone stayed light, carding fingers easily back through Sam's hair that, for once, he won't complain it too long. "Yeah, but you came back. And once the drug is out of your system fully and you're strong again, we're on the road."

Seeing that Sam's fingers were stiff as they went to reach across the sofa for the leather jacket, Dean automatically moved it closer without seeming obvious. "Something else bothering you, Sammy?" he figured a lot was bothering his brother but could only let him pick that topic to discuss.

"Can…Dean, you remember right after Jess you said that if I wanted to talk about her that you'd listen?" Sam began slowly, shivering slightly as his still infected wounds made him feverish at times.

Laying the back of a hand on his brother's forehead to check for a fever, Dean nodded absently. Correctly guessing that Sammy was running a low grade fever but chalked that up to his injuries and being out in the snow at night…which will involve Bobby bitching all night but then his mind locked onto what his brother was silently asking.

"You want to talk, Sam?" he asked hesitantly, feeling the nod more than hearing a reply since Sam had returned his eyes to the amulet. "Huh-uh, hang on a second," he urged, gently easing away to stand only long enough to throw another couple logs on the dying fire, stoke it up, grab a bottle of aged whiskey from where he knew Bobby stashed it and took a long pull before sitting back down. "Okay, let's talk."

Seeing Sam's doubts, Dean just sat back on the sofa to stretch out the leg that the dart had hit while he laid his right arm out along the back of the sofa. "Your move, Sammy," he declared and then waited to see what his brother would do.

Torn between wanting to unload some of the painful memories that were tearing him apart and not making his brother feel awkward, Sam watched for several moments before slowly he moved back closer to where Dean sat. He caught the jacket as it was tossed to him, knowing it was the closest to Dean telling him to let loose as he was going to get. "Everything?"

"Whatever you want to tell me, Sammy," Dean replied with more confidence than he felt, hoping he was strong enough to handle this for his brother and hoping Bobby wouldn't mind the damage he'd probably cause outside later on.

**Meanwhile:**

"Bobby, how the hell long does it take to heat up a can of soup?" Rufus was wondering while he sneaked cookies to the puppy under the table.

Slapping a couple bowls on a tray before stirring the medium size stockpot again, Bobby snorted. "I ain't feedin' those boys canned soup," he returned, explaining while getting crackers out and noticing that the cookie tin was emptier than it should have been. "Lady down the road dropped off some homemade chicken noodle a couple weeks before that whole mess with Sam and the 'shifter went down. I froze it for later so now we're heating it up for the boys and you had damn well better stop feeding that mutt cookies," he growled warningly.

Debating on making tea or just using straight whiskey, he chose on both since he figured Sam's throat would need the tea and Dean would be better off with straight liquor after the night he's had.

"You know, those Campbells won't take this lying down," Rufus spoke after a moment, pouring another cup of instant coffee while reminding himself to bring a coffee maker. "Them or someone will come for those boys again."

Bobby had been thinking about that for the past few days and after he and Rufus had gotten down burning Samuel's body, the thoughts had been stronger. "Yeah, I know," he sighed, figuring what would be coming next. "Those boys are all the family I got, Rufus, and I'm all they've got so let the sonsofbitches come, I'll be ready."

"That's what I was afraid you'd say," Rufus muttered when the unexpected scream from the living room took both men off guard and sent the puppy skittering into a broom closet. "Goddamn it, Singer! We're reinforcing every single ward, sign, spell or whatever you have on this place!" he snapped, grabbing for a weapon even while Bobby was running with his shotgun already in hand.

Not knowing if a demon or evil Angel, Bobby never really thought he'd ever have to say that, or something else had gotten into his home to go after the boys, he wasn't taking chances. Jerking open the sliding pocket doors to the living room, he went in with shotgun ready to fire but after a quick glance around, only saw…

"Dean, what in the hell's going on?" he demanded as Rufus made sure the room was secure.

Dean didn't bother answering his friend as he struggled to contain his little brother. He had known it would probably come to this and hadn't been surprised when after about an hour and a half of talking that Sam had begun to shake.

At first, just holding the jacket had been enough to soothe any fears that were starting to come but then he had moved closer to his brother much as he had a boy seeking comfort. Soon, his hand had sought the comfort of the amulet and while Dean had offered to take it off, Sam had just shook his head and forged on with his memories.

He had told Dean what little he recalled of his time with Lucifer and Michael in the Cage before Gabriel had taken him out. He explained about the night he'd been outside Lisa's house to see Dean but had panicked and ran and finally about how he'd come to be with the Campbells.

All of that he had gotten through with little to no issues, though he had started missing letters in his speech while speaking of what Michael had told him of Dean's life. It wasn't until he got to the part about their Mom's family that his speech changed to the point that his brother knew what would come.

As it turned out, Sam didn't have full memories of his time with Samuel and the others until this most recent attack unlocked them. He had been uneasy and suspicious about them when he would want to go see his brother but they kept coming up with excuses. It wasn't until a drug didn't work well enough and he recalled something that he knew he had to get to Dean and that was when he'd been ambushed by the shapeshifter and replaced.

It was those memories that had started Sam trembling and by the time he'd reached what he could recall of the recent attack, the wires and tubes being reinserted that he's panicked fully and screamed. It was also all Dean could do to get him into his arms to hold him still and reassure him since he'd forgotten that even as a skinny kid, Sammy was stronger than he looked when scared.

"Shhh, c;mon, Sammy," he whispered against Sam's hair, letting the boy curl against him like he had when they'd both been small. "It's over. I'll be with you and like before, we'll get over this."

"You believe that?" Bobby asked, having set the shotgun aside once he was certain no true threat existed. "You know that nightmares will be the least of his worries."

Understanding that his brother would be having physical side effects along with the mental ones again, Dean only nodded. "So, I banish his butt upstairs to our room again until he can move and sleep for more than five seconds without screaming…unless you're kicking us out."

"I outta slap you upside your damn head for even saying that, boy," Bobby growled, stepping closer to the couch but just lifted a warning brow when he saw how the older Winchester had tensed. "You know damn good and well that you two boys are stayin' here until I'm good and sure that you're both strong enough to be out there on your own," he declared, eyeing the way Sam seemed to be sleeping against his brother and considered the trip upstairs. "You want to try to move him?"

"Nah, he'll wake up if we do," Dean yawned, but didn't move except to card his fingers through his brother's hair again to soothe when he shifted. "Just leave us here for tonight but yell for Cas cause I'm gonna want to know what to expect from his end."

"That should be fun," Bobby groused, reaching for a discarded blanket to throw over the boys. "Sleep, Dean," he urged more gently. "He'll need you for this."

A quiet nod was all the answer he got as he watched Dean settled back further on the sofa and nearly smirked when he caught what he was doing.

Motioning to Rufus to be quiet, Bobby waited to see that by shifting the way he had he'd given his 6'4" little brother more room but instead of taking it, Sam had merely curled up tighter with his head buried against Dean's shoulder while his hand still clutched the amulet and somehow Dean's jacket had been tucked into Sam's arms.

"You will never mention to either of those boys that you saw that," Bobby warned in a dangerous tone, poking his friend in the chest. "Now, you know how to install an I-Pod?"

Blinking, Rufus scowled. "Hell, I don't even know what one is much less how to install it in…install it in what?" he stared as Bobby merely pointed. "You screw with his car and that kid'll go postal on us instead of that damn Angel."

"We're riskin' it since it's his idea," Bobby decided, hoping they didn't blow up the car instead.

Dean had waited for the older men to leave to settle back fully, letting his fingers move continuously so his little brother would know he wasn't alone. It was another trick that Dean had learned early on when Sam had been small, frightened, and would crawl in bed with his big brother. So long as he could feel or hear Dean than he would sleep.

As he lay there, he recalled some of what his brother had said tonight and what had been said that Dean had translated. He knew that Sam hadn't told him everything and hadn't been expecting him to but that was fine. They had plenty of time while getting Sam back on his feet to handle that.

"Merry Christmas, Sammy," he whispered before closing his eyes and missing the slender wisp of shadow that hovered close by the sofa as if watching over her boys one final time.

**Twenty-Four Hours later:**

"Bobby, you cannot salt and burn perfectly good cookies," Dean argued in a soft whisper.

A snort that was pure disgust came after. "You wanna bet I can't?" Bobby tossed back. "I lost a washing machine and coffee maker to that brother of yours sugar high and you, hell boy, you couldn't handle two snickerdoodles without bouncing off the damn ceiling so you sure as hell ain't touching anything with sugar!"

"Bobby…" it was as close to a whine as Dean would admit to stooping until a soft moan changed his attention from snagging Christmas cookies to his waking brother. "Sammy, you waking up now? Bobby won't let me near a cookie or a present until you do."

"I ain't you near those damn cookies period, idjit!" the older man countered but shoved a plate of freshly made pancakes toward the elder Winchester. "When he's awake, try those and don't touch those boxes!"

Dean waited until his friend had turned his back to make a face, then returned to Sam who's eyes were struggling to open fully. "Hey, easy there," he urged, when a hand grasped his good arm on instinct and took it as a clue to help the boy sit up. "You okay?"

"…Super…" Sam mumbled, throat raw, his head hurt, his hand was throbbing and he felt like he'd gone twenty rounds with vengeful spirit on speed. "You?"

"Aside from listening to Bobby bitch about everything you broke while high on sugar, I'm good," Dean responded, not intending to admit yet that his shoulder was still hurting. "Sammy, you did a number of the washing machine. Do I want to ask what you tried to wash?"

Not recalling offhand what that was, Sam shook his head slowly. "Doubt it," he muttered, feeling a glass being pressed to his lips. "No, can't…"

"You need to drink and eat, kiddo," Dean told him, hating that his brother was right back to the stage he'd been in shortly after Lawrence. "Either you do for me or that doctor pal of Bobby's does it his way and…Sammy, you know I won't let them do that," he grabbed his brother before he could move, knowing he was thinking of the feeding tube. "Drink this and I'll show you your present."

The tone was bribery and Sam knew it but since he was curious to what his brother was up to, he tried to sip the watered down juice but felt his throat nearly close up. "…can't, it…"

"Alright, here," Dean held out a small box to his brother. "You had better appreciate this too, geek."

Frowning, Sam took the box with hands that still shook and unwrapped it, flipped open the lid and felt his eyes grow huge, then confused. "This isn't my I-Pod?"

"Uhh, no," Dean admitted warily, rubbing the back of his neck as he moved to sit on the back of the sofa. "Yours met an end similar to the gnome so I got this one. I think I figured out how to put the songs back from your computer on it since it didn't blow up the Impala this morning when I tried…what?"

Sam was staring at his older brother as if he'd grown a second head. "Who are you and what did you do with my brother?" he asked good-naturedly. "You put the jack in the Impala?" he asked quietly, not sure what he was feeling. "You said it would be a cold day in…"

"Yeah, well, I figure she's as much yours as mine now so you may as well have your music when you drive," Dean muttered, clearly uncomfortable when he saw the moisture shining in his brother's eyes. "We don't have to hug now, right? I'm chick-flicked out so if we could skip a day…"

"I haven't told you in a while but…you are an awesome big brother, Dean," Sam offered softly, dropping his eyes as a way to give his brother a way out of the moment when he felt a hand on his shoulder as Dean dropped onto the sofa beside him.

Sighing, Dean swore he was making a resolution to go at least a week with no chick flick moments as he gripped Sam's neck gently, being careful of the wound back there, and pulled him closer. "I know I am…bitch," he replied, waiting with a tense breath.

"Jerk," Sam muttered, frowning. "I had planned to get you something but…"

"Y'know that damn mutt will run from a cricket, a mouse, an ant but he attached himself to the damn delivery man the other day and it took Rufus twenty minutes to get it off the guy?" Bobby grumbled, walking in with a brightly wrapped box that he handed to Dean. "Tell your brother 'thank-you' and open it."

Blinking at the box to Sam's surprised eyes, Dean slit the wrapping paper carefully to open a plain brown box, peeked inside before letting surprised joy lit his face. "You found new cassette tapes?" he began to dig through the box like a child with a new toy, holding up one tape after another. "You hate Metallica, and…is this the Def Leppard tape I lost when you were fourteen?"

"Umm, yeah. I searched online to find 'em," Sam admitted, glancing at Bobby who was standing back watching with a smile. "I figured the ones in the car had been through flood and fire with Cas so it might be time to have back-up copies…I mean, it's not easy to find classic hits of mullet rock these days."

Jerking his eyes up at the words, another time his brother had said that to him came to mind and a small smile came to Dean's face. "House rules, Sammy," he reminded quietly, sitting the box aside to hug his brother more firmly this time. "Thank you," he whispered, coughing as he pulled back. "You know that…"

"Yeah, I know," Sam returned, tensing at the knock on the door but Dean's hand kept him still while Rufus, who had decided to stay awhile longer, answered the door cautiously. "Now what do we do?"

Not having a clear answer on that, Dean was about to offer a flip reply when Rufus stuck his head in with a smirk. "Gumby Girl's here to see you, kid," he announced cheerfully, ducking the ball of paper that was thrown at him.

"Lisa?" Dean frowned, laying a hand on Sam's arm when he felt his brother tense. "Easy, I'll be right back," he assured him, motioning to Bobby to watch Sam while he stepped out to find Lisa waiting on the front porch with the puppy in the doorway actually growling. "Sure, you run from rabbits. People you growl at," he muttered, stepping out after grabbing his denim jacket. "Long way from home."

Looking around the house until finally her gaze landed on Dean, Lisa nodded. "Ben and I are on the way to my cousins and so I thought I'd finish dropping off the stuff in the house since the Impala vanished one day," she explained, motioning to the small box in her arms. "I guess you won't be back to stay."

"No, I won't be," Dean admitted, taking the box under one arm while keeping an eye on the inside of the house. "I can't involve you or Ben in the life that Sam and I lead and…" he waited a second to add. "I'm not cut out for 9-to-5, dinner at seven, pals around on Sunday for football," he told her, leaning a head toward the house. "What I am cut out for is mostly in there. Sammy needs me and so do the people we save, so that's what I have to consider. What we had…I appreciate you putting up with me but you and Ben deserve more."

Looking like she might argue, a sound from the door had her gazing into still cloudy and now wary hazel eyes as Sam came to pick Boo up. "Sam," she murmured softly, surprised in the change she noticed in the young man.

"Bobby said you could invite them in for dinner," he told his brother without meeting his gaze, blinking when the box was shoved at him.

"Lisa and Ben have plans but take this in the living room and don't snoop," Dean told him, letting his hand rest on Sam's shoulder as if in silent message because the younger man slowly nodded. "He'd been getting better until this happened," he didn't look at the woman when he spoke as he kept his gaze glued to Sam but finally did look at her. "You understand now?"

She hadn't when she'd first arrived but it was just seeing the small unspoken communication between the brothers that finally clued Lisa in to the fact that Dean would never be happy with her so long as his little brother was out in the world alone.

"You're both welcome to drop by if you're in the area," she remarked, leaning up to kiss him goodbye and felt the change there as well. "Be careful, Dean."

"My middle name, " he smiled, waiting until her car was out of sight to close the door and head back to the living room, groaning. "The part where I said not to snoop escape you, Sammy?"

Dropping most of what he'd found in the box, Sam held something up so his brother could see it even though Dean was aware of what was in that box. "You got it out of the apartment," he sounded amazed as he ran a shaking hand over the small plaque. "The night Jess died, when you went back to try to save her, you got this out."

"It was sitting on the mantle as I passed, so I grabbed it before the place went up," Dean shrugged, not liking this turn of events since he didn't want Sam upset today. "No big deal, Sam."

Sam stood, leaving the rest of the mementos in the box, but he brought his award plaque with him when he crossed the room to his brother. "You knew that you couldn't save Jess, Dean," he murmered, watching green eyes closely. "You went in for this, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did," Dean admitted but found any further words cut off when his brother grabbed him into a tight hug that reminded him of Sam's desperate hug after the Mystery Spot deal. Allowing the gesture because he knew Sam needed the contact, Dean shot Bobby a look that threatened death if he ever brought this up again. "Alright, now go sit down with that mutt while hopefully Bobby can handle Christmas dinner without it needing to be exorcised."

Knowing the boy was referring to the possessed turkey he'd blasted over Thanksgiving, Bobby tossed him a sour look before heading for the kitchen. "You keep it up and you can cook," he growled, waiting until he was out in the hall to add. "Besides, the Sheriff's bringing dinner so be good today."

"Great," Dean muttered, sitting on the sofa beside his brother to touch the leather jacket. "Y'know, I meant what I said about you using this."

"I know," Sam looked at it for a long moment, his hand lightly brushing it. "I…just think that it's better for you to keep it for now. I know where it is if…if I need it."

Dean knew that meant that Sam wasn't ready to accept the jacket due to his memories of the past and what the jacket meant to them but he'd probably always reach for it and his brother when in need.

"Yeah, Sammy. We'll both be right here when you need us," he promised firmly, seeing his brother's hazel eyes lighten and relaxed as heard a small laugh escape Sam when the puppy fell into a box and started running around the room with the box on top. "Sammy?" he waited until those same eyes shifted back to his to finish. "I…I love you."

Those were the best words for Sam to hear since he knew how infrequently his brother offered them outright, swallowing a sudden lump he nodded shakily. "I know, Dean." he whispered, sitting back to watch the puppy and hearing a crash from the kitchen followed by a shotgun blast. "Diner food again?"

"No, I know where he hid those cookies," Dean smiled, tousling his brother's hair as he once had while hoping the New Year could bring them both some peace until Sam was strong… 'I hope.' he thought to himself.

**The End**

**A/N: **_Well, this is the end. It took longer than I thought and please forgive any serious errors in this final chapter. I'm writing sick. Again, I thank everyone who has read this one and left reviews. They mean so much and I hope you will look to new Sam and Dean stories coming soon. Thanks!_


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